


Riverboat Gambler

by Jules6



Category: Bonanza
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-06-28 02:42:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 104,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19803070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jules6/pseuds/Jules6
Summary: A stranger from Ben's past is about to come into the life of his youngest son, intending to tear down the close father/son relationship they share.  There are another six chapters already written and in the process of being edited with more complicated content and hopefully a better story.   Third Chapter has now been added to and edited (July 2019)





	1. Heated Tempers

**RIVERBOAT GAMBLER**

******By Jules  
**

**Chapter One – Heated Tempers**

The afternoon was bathed in bright sunshine as Adam Cartwright rode his large chestnut horse towards a set of corrals and yards set up a little distance away from the main homestead of the Ponderosa.

After a long day, he was relieved to see the end of his own work at the timber encampment. There was still quite a few months of work ahead for himself and the men he was in charge of. The work was hot, slow and not without problems.

Hoss had been placed in charge of the cattle dealings for the ranch. His larger brother also had a group of hard working men to help him carry out the arduous work that came from working with ornery beasts and men. The contracts that their father Ben Cartwright had negotiated were large and over long periods of time as well. More men might have to be employed there yet if the weather turned nasty.

Today, Adam had to pass these corrals as he made his way home for supper. There was a different animal in the very center of the dust covered arena, and no other men around except one; his younger brother Joe.

Adam climbed down from his own horse, tying the reins loosely over a nearby post, and gesturing for his mount to stay, as he approached the wooden fencing quietly and watched with great interest at what was happening.

Joe was currently astride a large black horse, his hands holding a halter rope in both hands. The animal kept moving about nervously, his brother was standing up in a basic set of stirrups, there was no saddle. Both rider and horse, were sizing each other up, waiting to gain the upper hand. Neither willing to give an inch. Even from this distance, Adam could see the concentration etched on his brother's face.

The black horse moved his back end suddenly, but Joe had been waiting and counteracted with his own body weight. The horse moved a second and third time, on each occasion Joe anticipated his opponent, using to his skills to gain trust and respect.

Breaking horses came as very naturally to Joe, just like riding, despite his tender years. His father might have commented in the past that this ability came from his mother, Marie. She too had been an experienced horse-woman, even before moving to the Ponderosa. But there was much more than that, something that couldn't be measured, quantified or explained easily.

The kind of natural ability with a horse that Joe displayed, and that hidden connection between man and animal could never come from training or teaching. It was something instinctive between rider and mount that was unwritten.

Adam had broken horses before and considered himself an accomplished and confident rider, but he had to be honest that it had taken longer for him to show the level of understanding that Joe did at his age.

Adam had broken quite a number of horses himself over the years, as had Hoss. Their father was involved with breaking horses, when both boys were youngsters and before Joe had even been born. He had started teaching Joe the basics when his brother first starting showing more than a passing interest to such a dangerous occupation.

Wild, unbroken horses were unpredictable, mistrustful and wilful. The same inference could have been drawn about Joe, by strangers and those who knew him best. The youngest Cartwright brother was quick to react, wary of unfamiliarity and had been reckless in the past. Under careful tutelage and expert handling, those same horses could be guided, handled with patience and with time, an understanding could be reached.

Ben Cartwright had always ensured that all of his sons were taught the correct ways to act and work with livestock on the ranch. And he took care of all of this boys, never ashamed to show anyone that he loved them. He respected them enough to allow them to work individually and make good choices as they matured into men. This ranch began with his own two hands, and even now continued to be built as a team. For his sons to grow up on and to benefit from, and someday, with faith, carry on the proud tradition.

When it came to Joe, his level of devotion knew no bounds. Hoss and Adam had seen him laugh heartily along with their brother whenever there was a cheeky smile, listen with an impartial ear and offer a real solution when something that was bothering him. Joe could scare his father to death in the blink of an eye when those green eyes burned with fever, or lift Ben's spirits higher than the clouds themselves as he fell asleep nestled comfortably and securely against his shoulder after the danger had passed.

Like those horses, that wild spirit was a part of who they were born to be. Ben kept his heart young through Joe, allowing him to have more freedom. Though not always ready to apologise for wanting to pull him back from brash behaviour, but able to offer forgiveness and tenderness when it was needed the most.

The horse that was fighting with Joe was still too green in his opinion, and had quite a while to go before he could be successfully saddled and safely ridden.

Six months ago, an Army Major from San Francisco had travelled to the Ponderosa, seeking assistance with the breaking of a number of wild horses. They would be needed for a number of different purposes. Some for soldiers to ride, some for pulling wagons of supplies and others for hauling weapons and munitions. The number of horses in each group would be smaller to begin with, but the size of each group would gradually increase over successive contracts, if the army were happy with the condition and inspection of the animals upon delivery.

From the very beginning, Joe had been present throughout the discussions between the Major and their father, and expressed an interest in participating. By the time he had left to await a decision and pricing from Ben, Joe was pleading with his father to allow him take full control of this first contract as a way of proving himself ready to handle the horse breaking operation on his own.

Ben had taken everything his youngest son said into consideration, and reluctance at allowing total control had certainly surfaced. Joe had put forward why he was the best person for the job, whilst listening to the reason for his father's reservations. Eventually it had been agreed that one man would be taken from Adam's timber workers and another from Hoss's cattle rustlers to help Joe with the horses.

Joe bucked a little at first about not being able to make his own choices about the workers, but didn't want to press his luck too much. Day after day, Joe had gotten up without a word of protest and headed out after breakfast, ready to start work. He suspected that his father would be assigning one or both of his brothers to keep an watchful eye on his progress at various times.

The first four months had gone rather smoothly, without significant problems. Joe was his own hard task master, keeping things running as smoothly as possible. Ben had found it difficult to stay at arms length, and needed to force himself into not interfering unless his son reached out for advice or asked for a lending hand.

First few weeks had been about settling the animals, taking time to recognize which horses were suited to breaking and which ones were not. Joe used his own unique method of mustering them into the corral one at a time and gave each horse as much time as it needed to adjust and show promise. Some took more time than others. What worked for one horse, wouldn't necessarily produce results in the next animal.

Over the past two months, there had been at least two weather delays due to unseasonal rain and an early summer storm, turning the center of the corral into a mud pit. The softer surface caused havoc with the animal's hooves and there was a risk of injury that Joe was not willing to take.

Several weeks ago, his brother had suffered with a heavy cold, and had not been able to ride for a few days, under doctor's orders. Of course, there had been much objection at his forced inactivity from the young man himself as he slowly improved.

Adam knew he would be lying to himself if he hadn't initially shared some of his father's reluctance and concerns. He wanted to quash any own self-doubts about the project being finished on time. In the end it had been Joe himself and his determination to maintain the schedule, whilst keeping the long-term welfare of the animals foremost in his methods.

His younger brother had been head-strong and independent and wanted to do everything his own way. Watching Joe this afternoon and knowing that the majority of the dangerous work was in the past, he was quietly proud.

Sport snickered a greeting to the horse in the corral, and Joe turned his head in mild surprise, waving a hand to acknowledge seeing his brother for the first time. He lifted one black-gloved hand to adjust the hat on his head, attempting to wipe the sweat and damp hair away that had fallen into his eyes.

That small lax in diligence was all it took for a heart-stopping moment to occur. The young horse transferred the unspent power in his muscled body to the front legs, while simultaneously kicking outwards with the back two legs, and unfortunately Joe was unprepared for the sudden change in direction.

From where he was standing, Adam saw his sibling lose his balance and grip on the halter rope. Joe gave a brief startled cry of alarm as he pitched forward, landing heavily on his right shoulder in the dirt.

“Joe!”

Adam quickly scrambled through the fence, seeing his brother sprawled awkwardly, his face covered in dust and his hat laying several metres away. The horse itself was still flighty and unsettled at the other end of the yard, the stirrups and halter rope having been dislodged and discarded.

Before he could see how badly his brother had been hurt, Adam needed to make sure that the yard was safe enough for both of them to be in. Walking across the circle of hard packed dirt, thankfully the horse was pacing nervously back and forth across the opposite side fence.

Turning back around, Adam was pleased to see that Joe was getting to his feet. Perhaps a little slowly, but under his own power. His brother was dusting his hands off on the leather chaps he was wearing. The shirt he was wearing was covered in dirt.

“You sure took a tumble there,” Adam lightly chastised his sibling, trying to get a good look and see if Joe was sporting any injuries.

Joe was notorious for keeping injuries and illness from his family, if he thought he could get away with it.

“Just lost my concentration there for a minute,” Joe said with a small laugh, picking up his fallen hat, and looking over at the horse. He was making sure that the animal hadn't suffered any injury before himself.

Adam could see his young brother rubbing at one shoulder and a grimace of pain and discomfort briefly crossed his features.

“Pa send you to check up on me?” Joe asked, as he put his hat back on his head. He wasn't surprised with Adam's appearance. During the past few weeks, each of his brothers had turned up at odd times of the day. Sometimes in the morning, or like today, towards the end. He was accepting that this was his father's way of keeping an eye on him without being present himself.

“I am headed back home myself, and had to pass nearby here anyway,” Adam answered truthfully.

“Been a long day?” the dark-haired man asked, noting the tiredness on Joe's face. There was a distinct grin demonstrating how much he was enjoying his work, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“No more than any other lately,” Joe answered in a non-committal tone of voice. He moved over to where the halter and rope were, picking them up and starting to examine them in his hands, making sure that there was no damage or wear that could cause more problems.

When he was satisfied that the equipment had not been a contributing factor to the mishap, he put them over one shoulder and made his way over to the fence. Hanging over one of the main fence posts was a water canteen. It wasn't cold, but Joe was glad to have something wet going down his throat to wash away the dust that he couldn't reach.

Joe held the still half-filled canteen out towards Adam, offering him a drink, while Joe was still swishing the last mouthful of tepid water around in his mouth.

“No thanks, I have had enough of water today,” Adam said plainly, remembering some of the problems he was having with his own work.

“I think it is time to call it a day though, and head home for supper,” Joe commented, looking over at the horse. The horse had settled somewhat, but protesting muscles were telling Joe that he had done enough for one day.

“Just let me put this stuff away, and I will ride back home with you,” Joe said as he began unbuckling his chaps, and headed towards the small tack area adjoining the corral.

“Take all the time you need” Adam replied, climbing back through the fence to where his horse was still tethered.

After a few minutes, Adam was about to call out about what was keeping Joe, when he heard some words of frustration and anger. He could hear the discord from Joe and wanted to see what he was not happy about, dismounting and heading to find out what the problem was.

“I thought I told those guys that they had to put this all away properly before they left today,” came Joe's exclaim of exasperation and impatience.

Adam stood just outside the small wooden structure that housed the horse tack. It wasn't a very big space, barely enough for one person at a time. There were a number of pegs and metal hooks spaced along the wooden wall, and a makeshift table set at waist height.

On the table, Joe held a number of discarded bridles and halter ropes that had not been stored in the correct manner. From all appearances, they had been thrown there was a second thought by the previous user, without any consideration to the next person that might need to use it.

“You might need to have a few words with them, Joe,” Adam tried to reason, not impressed himself at how the equipment had been haphazardly forgotten about. He would have felt the same about any worker who was displaying such behaviour under his supervision.

“Those two cannot never do anything right that I ask them to,” Joe steamed, turning to his brother and continuing his tirade at the sloppiness of the two workers. “I need to keep checking up on them every two minutes, adding to everything else that I already have to do.”

“Sorry, Adam, you may as well go back and get a hot supper while you can, because I might be here a while yet,” Joe apologised, having no intent of leaving until he knew that he had completed the task.

Joe removed his black gloves, and now began inspecting the first bridle he picked up. He looked along the leather with his eyes for signs of wear and tear, but it was his fingertips and the tactile sensation of touch that he relied on most. He was searching for telltale cracks in the leather that might identify a weak spot. He took his time, this wasn't something that could be done too quickly or with a careless attitude. Horses and people's lives depended on the equipment to work correctly every time.

Adam watched Joe with the first piece of tack, but then saw there was quite a number yet to go.

There was only one thing he could do, Adam stepped up to the table, and picked up one of the halter ropes and began doing his own careful examination of its condition. He saw the questioning look he was receiving from Joe, “Two hands make light work.”

Joe clapped his brother with a show of gratitude, not needing to say the word ' _thanks'_ , and set about picking up the next piece himself.

* * *

Over an hour after they joined forces, the two Cartwright brothers were now both astride their horses, starting the journey back to the homestead.

On the journey home, the two brothers had discussed a number of different topics. Firstly the tack and what damage they had found on one or two. When they had left, everything had been returned to the correct peg. Ropes and bridles separated, ready to be used first thing tomorrow when Joe began his work day.

Joe had then listened with interest to Adam's day and troubles he had with the timber contract. There were workers having disagreements about their living quarters, the logging had been slowed by wagons breaking down due to weight and needing new axles. There had been trouble acquiring enough teams of mules to pull the heavy loads.

Both of them had wondered what problems they might hear that Hoss was having with moving the large number of cattle before the weather changes that were expected in coming weeks.

Arriving after the last hours of daylight, and twilight beckoned, both young men lead their horses into the barn, ready to begin the rituals of bedding them down for the night. Any hands that would normally been present during the day, would have retired to their own bunk-house quarters by now. Neither of them thought themselves incapable of taking care of their own mounts.

“I will see you inside for supper, Joe,” Adam remarked, when his horse Sport had been fed and watered.

“I won't be long,” Joe said, as he continued to curry his horse's coat, giving Cochise some extra attention. He used the long strokes to think through what he was going to need doing in the next couple of days. He was almost at the end of one laborious amount of work, but what lay ahead was just as daunting.

Adam opened the front door, removing his hat and unbuckling his gun belt. Placing his hat above on the assigned peg, and setting the gun belt on top of the credenza.

Ben Cartwright and his brother Hoss were already seated at the table, quietly talking to each other over a cup of coffee.

Hop Sing was quietly moving around the main dining table, clearing dishes back to the kitchen.

“Coming in a little late, Adam?” Hoss pointed out, smiling over the rim of his cup. “You already missed supper by an hour.”

“Where is that younger brother of yours?” Ben asked, wiping his hands on his napkin, looking towards the front door, and hoping to see Joe following behind.

“I was headed home on time a few hours ago, but stopped by the corral to see how he was doing,” Adam explained.

“Still brushing that horse of his,” Adam informed them, leaning on top of one of the dining room chairs, “He will be along just as soon as he is finished.”

“We could be waiting until breakfast time tomorrow then,” Hoss joked, the three of them sharing a knowing look about how much time and attention Joe showered on Cochise.

“Joe suspected I was there to spy on him, Pa, but you and Hoss would be real proud at the job that he has been doing there lately. Just as I am. He really has been working hard, and those horses and their excellent conditioning are the results of everything that he has been doing these past couple of months,” he added with pride for his brother.

“Well that certainly is good news to hear,” Ben smiled, knowing that respect from Adam was something that occasionally Joe was quietly striving for.

“I am sure that Joe will share with you some of the trouble he has been having with those workers this afternoon,” Adam told them, “That is why we were late in the first place. If he had been down at the corral on his own, he would still be there.”

“Trouble?” Hoss asked with a frown of concern on his face.

Instead of elaborating about the workers, Adam looked towards the front door and back again at his family, knowing that Joe would never admit to what he was about to share.

Ben sat up in his chair a little straighter, taking a keen interest in what his eldest son was about to say.

“What he won't tell slip to either of you, even if any of us were to ask, is about the heavy fall he took from the last ride of the day. Scared me there for a few minutes,” Adam admitted, pulling out the chair and taking his seat properly at the table.

“Little Joe hurt himself?” Hoss asked, knowing just like Adam had thought to himself earlier in the day, that their brother could be secretive when it came to taking care of himself or admitting to anyone that he might be sporting an injury.

“He got to his feet again quickly enough,” Adam answered, looking at his father, seeing the same unspoken question on his father's face. “But it could have been a lot worse, especially if he had been there completely on his own.”

Before there could be any further discussion on the matter, voices could be heard coming from the kitchen. Unlike his brother, Joe had chosen the back door to enter the house, and was currently inside talking to Hop Sing.

Ben's fears of his son being injured were doused a little with the pleasant sound of his son's voice filtering through. He couldn't hear any pain in his exchange with the little oriental man.

Joe emerged from the kitchen door into the adjacent dining room, “Evening Pa, Hoss,” he said cheerfully.

Hop Sing followed after Joe, bringing a warmed plate of dinner for Adam. “Thank you,” the dark-haired Cartwright said graciously, picking up his cutlery and starting to eat his late supper.

“How was your day, Joseph?” Ben asked, taking a look at his son's appearance and noting the dirty clothes and tired expression. His shirt in particular looked to have bore the brunt of the day's arduous activity, with small tears in the fabric in a number of places.

“Fine Pa, I will tell you more about it soon,” Joe answered, “Hop Sing, I am going to take a hot bath first before I eat.”

“Wouldn't you be better eating supper first son?” Ben inquired, knowing that getting Joe to eat sufficiently could be an uphill battle at times, especially when he was tired.

“I done already ate yours and Adam's share before you both come in,” Hoss mentioned with a hearty laugh. “Ain't nothing for you now short shanks exceptn' a few measly scraps,” he teased.

“I would rather have that bath first, Hoss, the amount of dust I got in my boots alone is enough to turn that water into a river of mud by the time I am finished,” Joe stated.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Joe had closed the door to the bathhouse, and sank in the aromatic water with an audible sigh. The temperature of the water wasn't too hot that it scalded, but it wasn't lukewarm either. Hop Sing had placed a few drops of oil on the surface to infuse with the rising steam vapour. After a long day in the saddle, the soothing relief was very welcome.

After soaking for a further ten minutes, could feel his over-taxed muscles begin to unwind. And it wasn't only his body that started to relax, his mind slowly letting go of any tension and angry thoughts he had about the day's work. Joe could feel fatigue creeping up on him and threatening to take a stronger hold over him. His stomach was the only part of him reminding him that it had yet to be satisfied or appeased.

Reluctantly, Joe pulled himself out of the still warm water, shivering slightly at the coolness of the air compared to the water. He buttoned up a fresh set of tan trousers after pulling them over his slim hips, but upon examining the remnants of the shirt he had been wearing, frowned at the damage, contemplating if any of it could be salvaged.

By the time he walked through the back door of the kitchen into the dining room, Ben had moved from the dining room table to his favourite blue arm chair. Hoss had taken a seat on the settee, in front of the chess board, hoping to entice his younger brother into at least one game tonight.

Adam was standing up near the mantel of the fireplace, a small shot of whisky in his hand to enjoy after finishing his meal.

Each of the older Cartwrights were about to witness a most unusual occurrence that they suspected for many years, but never mentioned to Joe himself.

Hop Sing came out of the kitchen, carrying a hot pot of coffee for Joe, placing it down on the table. He could see the young man's concentration on the garment with a slight frown on his face.

Joe held out the shirt for the oriental man to inspect the condition of it for himself, “Féngzhì huò xiūlǐ chènshān” he asked.

Hoss did a double take at hearing his brother utter the foreign words, scratching his head, and trying to figure out what was being said.

Adam and Ben shared a knowing glance, neither of them understanding what had been exchanged either, but their long held belief's about Joe's ability to converse with Hop Sing in his native tongue had just been confirmed yet again.

It was very rare to catch Joe off his guard and allow anybody to know he had learnt it first-hand and continued to teach himself. When he was much younger, Joseph had spent more time inside the house, with Hop Sing as his constant companion whilst the older members of the family were at school or attending to the work of the ranch.

Ben had only stumbled upon his son's ability with the language purely by accident when his son had been in the grips of a fever, and he had been deliriously calling out to Hop Sing. These days Joe usually made sure that there was only the two of them present when he spoke it. The fact that had done so just now, and had yet to realise his mistake, spoke volumes about his level of tiredness that was evident.

The short sentence that had just been spoken now, showed a lot more fluency and accuracy to it, but the reply that came from Hop Sing also demonstrated that it wasn't just speaking that Joe was able to do, as he listened to the answer.

“Shì de, wǒ kěyǐ bāng nǐ jiějué,” Hop Sing replied, taking the shirt into his possession, bringing a genuine smile of gratitude to Joe's face.

“Xièxiè,” Joe said as the small man disappeared into the kitchen.

When Hop Sing returned from the kitchen, it wasn't the foreign language that drew their attention, but the piping hot meal that was now placed in front of Joe. The plate was full and been prepared with care. This time nothing needed to be said, the kindness was on display for all to see.

Hoss and Ben had enjoyed serving up their own meals for themselves from the variety of dishes that had been placed in front of them. Adam had been happy enough with his late supper, but it seemed that not only had the best parts had been reserved for the youngest Cartwright, but the portions were far above anything they saw Joe eat at any one sitting normally.

Ben was pleased to see that any concerns he had about Joe eating enough tonight could be forgotten about, as Joe took up his cutlery and went about starting to eat. Hop Sing seemed happy enough as well that his efforts were not going to be in vain.

“Hey Joe, what did you say to Hop Sing just now? Hoss queried. “And how come your plate is bigger than mine?” he pouted in mock seriousness.

After chewing a mouthful of food, “I just asked him about fixing my shirt, Hoss. You all heard me ask him and he is much better sewing and mending than I ever will be. I am not sure if he can get that rusty stain out though,” Joe gave with a smile in response, not picking up that his family had not understood anything that had been said.

“That still doesn't explain how you get to enjoy a hot dinner, when you were so late to the table, Joe,” Adam pointed out good-naturedly.

“Just lucky I guess,” was the answer as Joe resumed eating, not reading anything into their thoughts about the special treatment he was afforded.

Although not thrilled to see Joe sitting at the dinning room table without a shirt on, Ben was loathe to say anything right at the moment about what was considered correct decorum and manners at the table. It was Hop Sing's passing glance and gasp at his young charge that drew their attention that something may not be quite right.

“Nǐ yào zuò shénme huílái,” Hop Sing asked with worry laced in his voice.

Joe's paused in his meal, his reply this time was in English, “You worry too much, just like Pa and my brothers over there.”

“What about us little brother?” Hoss asked curiously.

“Oh nothing, Hoss, Hop Sing is just worried over nothing. I was going to ask him about some rubbing liniment when I came out of the bath-house anyway,” Joe explained, as he pushed his plate aside. He had eaten about half, but all he wanted for now.

“Cā Ruǎngāo?” Joe asked, easily falling back to speaking Chinese.

Hop Sing nodded and went back into the kitchen briefly, reaching up on a high shelf and returning with a brown bottle.

“Pa would you mind putting some of this on, now that I have finished supper?”

“Not at all, Joe,” Ben said, getting out of the chair and wanting to see for himself what Hop Sing had noticed.

Taking the bottle from the table, and reading the label to make sure it was the correct treatment, Ben watched Joe stand momentarily and turn the dining room chair around, so he could sit on it backwards. This way he could rub the ointment on a larger area of his son's back.

The patriarch of the family shared a brief look of concern with his two eldest son's at the damage that he could see. Ben thought back the comment Joe mentioned about the rusty stain on his shirt that might not come out; it must have been a blood stain.

Ben placed a small amount of the ointment in the palm of his hand, and began in small circles, but then changed to larger, softer touches as he carefully applied it to his son's skin.

A number of bruises peppered across Joe's shoulder blades, dark enough to assume that they caused discomfort. On his right shoulder there was a fresh graze and scratch mark that had drawn blood. It was distinguishable and over the top of the other bruising, but not too deep. Probably a result of the fall that Adam had told them about when Joe was out of earshot.

Ben avoided that area with the liniment, not wanting it sting. For a few minutes he wondered if he should be getting Paul to take a look at his son, but erred on the side of caution, knowing that Joe would openly object to his over-protectiveness. He himself had experienced such injuries during his younger years, but that didn't mean that it sat well with him seeing such angry blemishes on his young son's healthy tanned skin.

The other thing that Ben noticed about his son from this angle, was how long his hair was getting. It was still damp from his bath, and the curls at the base of his neck were more noticeable. The same unruly curls that he had inherited from his mother. And especially now, like this, they went a long way towards showing just how youthful Joe was.

Tomorrow he would make the suggestion of his son going and getting a hair cut.

“I don't think you are going to get your game of checkers tonight, Hoss,” Adam surmised, noting how tired his sibling appeared. He had seen it back at the corral, but now it was even more pronounced.

“Yeah, looks kinda plum tuckered out don't he,” Hoss remarked in agreement. There would be other times to complete their friendly rivalry.

To ease his own concerns, Ben continued to rub a second small dab of the liniment onto his son's lower back, deciding to bring up some idle conversation, but lowering the tone and volume of his voice, “You might have been pushing yourself a little too hard lately, Joe.”

“I'm fine, Pa,” came the barely whispered response, any further thoughts or desire to comment more, fading away entirely.

Joe didn't offer up any further conversation, trusting enough to allow his father to tend to his abused muscles. He gave a few appreciative sighs at the soothing calmness that was beginning to envelop his senses.

Ben didn't know how much Joe heard from his brothers, or himself. But he could feel how pliable Joe was, barely moving now as Ben continued his gentle massage.

Joe had his head pillowed on his arms over the top of the chair. Now that he was clean and his belly was comfortably full, Ben couldn't help but smile down at his son's peaceful face, as he watched him grow increasingly drowsy and sleepy.

* * *

The next morning, Joe awoke in his own bed, not having a full memory of how he gotten there. He vaguely remembered Hoss talking to him, and somebody telling him that he should be going to bed. Apart from that, and the feeling of being completely relaxed and warm, he had slept fairly solidly through the night without disturbance.

Today was the start of another busy day, but he had hoped that after lunch time, that he would be able to start to slow down a little with most of the work being taken care of.

By the time he dressed and made his way down to the breakfast table, his two older brothers had already left to attend to their own work for the day. So he was able to spend a few quiet moments talking to his father before he headed out. He promised himself to talk to Hoss later today and apologise for missing their game of checkers.

“Morning, Pa,” he greeted Ben in a good frame of mind.

“Good Morning yourself, Joseph, you look a bit more awake now then you did last night after supper,” he lightly teased.

“Thanks, Pa, I feel good to. Thanks for taking care of my back last night, that liniment certainly worked great,” Joe informed his father, reaching for the plate of eggs in the middle of the table. He put some ham on his plate, and poured himself the first cup of coffee for the day.

“Coffee, Pa?”

“Yes, please son,” Ben answered, happy that he was able to spend a few minutes this morning talking to his youngest son.

“What are your plans after breakfast?”

“Well I have to head down to the corral and start getting everything packed up ready for the ride to San Francisco,” Joe commented. “That shouldn't take more than a couple of hours. I don't want to work with any of the horses I am taking with us today or tomorrow, I want those animals relaxed and calm as much as possible. I want Cooch to take it fairly easy too, so everybody is ready to ride in two days time. We all have a long ride in front of us in a couple of days.”

“So you should be back here at the ranch about lunch time?” Ben prodded, trying to lead slowly into the next topic of conversation.

“With any luck, yes, why is there something else you wanted me to do?”

“Nothing pressing, but I would appreciate it if you could take time to go into Virginia City and collect the mail for me and pick up some supplies from the General Store.”

“I could do that. Anything else?” a little suspicion creeping into his voice, knowing that his father was hedging about something.

“I thought if you were there in town, and had an extra half hour, that you might go and see the barber, Joseph.” Ben completed, looking over the rim of his cup as he gauged what his son's reaction was going to be.

“The barber?” Joe started to say, but then realised what his father had been trying hard not to say plainly. “I don't think its that long just yet, Pa. Surely it can wait until I get back from San Francisco?”

“It has been at least three months since your last hair cut, Joseph,” Ben pointed out.

In answer to that comment, Joe reached up, running his fingers through his hair, at first thinking that his father might have been exaggerating. But to his dismay, he could feel that his hair was quite a bit longer than normal at the back. He tried brushing the curls hanging over his forehead aside to see if he could make it look different, but after letting out a sigh of exasperation, he reluctantly agreed, “You win, Pa, I will go and see them if they are not too busy today.”

“Thank you son, that is all I ask,” Ben said, pleased that he had won half of the battle without a whole lot of fuss.

“I'll be back to hitch up the wagon for town a little later, Pa,” Joe said, heading to the front door, picking up his gun belt and buckling it around his waist and then pulling his hat off the peg and placing it on his head.

He gave a final wave of goodbye to his father, closing the front door behind him as he headed to the barn to saddle Cochise.

* * *

Joe Cartwright was feeling pretty pleased with himself this late afternoon. He had been working all morning on the final preparations for a horse contract like he had promised his father, but he could still feel some of his muscles groan in protest, as though he was still riding one of the stubborn brutes he had broken in the past week.

His father's massage the previous night with the liniment had been working fine this morning, but after a few more hours in the hot sun this morning, his body was reminding the young man of his continual efforts over the past few weeks with little respite.

The fall he had taken just yesterday when his brother Adam had arrived, had caused a few new colourful bruises to appear across his back. He could feel spot of tenderness in particular as his father rubbed the liniment over his shoulders last night. He had seen one or two bruises through the mirror as he was putting his shirt on this morning, before leaving for the corral.

Joe reached over with the arm of his good shoulder and rubbed at his right shoulder blade at the slight discomfort distracting him, trying to keep an eye on the cards he currently held in his left hand. He lifted his head a little, stealing glances around the table at his opponents. Smiling to himself about the small kitty that was in the middle of the table awaiting collection.

_'This was going to be so easy',_ the young man thought to himself.

Playing poker or even being at the saloon in the first place had been far from his mind when he drove the supply wagon into town. The instructions from his father had been precise enough, get the mail and pick up the supplies from the general store and then get himself a hair cut before heading back home before supper.

The day itself was a hot one in Virginia City and the weather outside was stifling enough to find Joe wiping the sweat from his brow on a number of occasions and brush the damp curls from his forehead back from underneath the brim of his hat.

He had collected supplies just like he was asked to. Joe had even collected the mail from the post office already and loaded the supplies into the wagon, ready to begin the journey home. It had only been on his walk to the barber shop where things begun to go astray for him.

Once everything was secured enough in the buckboard, he had started heading down the street towards the barber shop. Unfortunately the Bucket O' Blood saloon was also along this route and Joe couldn't resist peeking over the top of the double swing doors to see what the atmosphere was like inside.

When the smoke in the room cleared enough to give him a clear view, Joe smiled at the sight before him. There was a table in the center of the room with five men settled around it, having themselves a game of cards. A couple of the local saloon girls were also crowded around the men looking to keep them company and any other favours that might come their way during the rest of the afternoon and later on that night.

At nineteen years old, Joe told himself that he was man enough to make decisions for himself about whether he had time to stop for a beer or not. He knew that Pa would be waiting for him to return home with the wagon load of supplies and the mail, but one little beer wouldn't take him that long.

Problem was, that one little beer was now over two hours ago and had turned into five or six little beers. Joe wasn't drunk yet, but was now comfortably relaxed from the alcohol to settle into the card game and forget everything else he was supposed to be doing.

A couple of the saloon girls had tried to sit themselves down on Joe's lap. One had even succeeded enough in taking his hat off and start batting her dull blue eyes at his bright emerald green ones. When it came to girls of any background, not one of them would deny that Joe Cartwright was indeed a handsome devil.

Joe had politely removed the girl, giving her one of his flashiest smiles in return. He wasn't about to be rude about his particular tastes in girls, but the ones who wore too much make up and smelled of richly scented perfumes didn't really appeal to him. In the afternoon heat, the young lady's over use of the perfume had an overwhelming aroma to it.

Joe quickly turned his attention to the cards in front of him but the girl didn't seem to care that she had lost his interest. She was now sitting on one of the other saloon's patrons at another table, trying to whisper the same sweet nothings in his ear that she had tried with Joe.

* * *

Outside the general store, the afternoon stage coach was just pulling in from the east coast. One gentleman emerged from the coach and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe away the perspiration on his face.

Once he was standing on the street and waiting for the stage driver to unload his small carpet carry bag and suitcase, he looked about the stores and shops, making a mental note of them as he went.

"Where can I find the nearest hotel, Monsieur?" the man asked with a thickly accented French voice.

The stage coach driver scratched his head at the man's accent for a moment, wondering what such a person would be doing in these parts. "Its just down the street there a little Mister," the driver replied, still shaking his head a little as he watched the tall thin elegantly dressed man begin to walk down the street.

The Frenchman was dressed in a full suit and vest together with satin cravat and pin. Much too hot for a day like today. The driver could help but think that the man looked so much out of place. He had to be hot in all of that extra fancy clothing.

The stranger soon found the International Hotel in the main street and now approached the front reception desk to check in for a room.

"Good afternoon, Sir," the clerk greeted him, pleased to see some people still saw it necessary to dressed elegantly no matter what the weather outside.

"Good afternoon, Monsieur," the stranger formally greeted the clerk in return.

"What may I do to help you?" the clerk inquired, lapping up the prospect of somebody staying in Virginia City that had a bit of cultural upbringing and education. Lord knows, with all the cow-hands and other derelicts that found themselves wandering into the street, some of such statue was sorely lacking.

"I am in need of lodgings, Sir. I cannot give you an estimate on my stay. It may be only a few days or it may be a few weeks. I apologize for being so evasive in my schedule, but I have important business in Virginia City that needs attending too. I am unsure how long this business may take and therefore cannot give you a more solid answer as to the length of my stay," the stranger explained.

"Oh that's alright, Sir, I can book you a room and you can stay as long as you need or for a shorter time period if that suits you better," the clerk said cheerfully, silently hoping that such a refined gentleman would opt to stay for an extended time frame.

"Thank you, I thank you for your kind indulgence," the stranger said, keeping up appearances as much as possible. If this man was as easy to fool as the coach driver was, maybe his stay wouldn't need to be very long at all, if the good people of Virginia City could provide him with the vital information he sought.

"I'll show you to your room, Sir," the clerk said as he came out from behind the reception counter and prepared to carry the gentleman's bags upstairs to his room.

Once inside, the clerk was surprised when the stranger gave him a sizeable tip for his services. From that minute on the clerk made a mental note to be there for this gentleman day and night if necessary. Especially if his stay looked as though it was going to turn into a profitable one.

"Is there anything else you need, Sir?" the clerk asked as he prepared to leave the room.

"I might ask if there is such a place in this town that young people may visit?" the stranger asked, trying to sound a little lost in his questioning.

"Where young people visit?" the clerk asked sounding a little perplexed and not fully understanding what the man's request was about.

"Forgive me, my English is not very good. As you have noticed, I am French and I sometimes find it hard to use the correct wording. I am looking for a place that young men may visit for social reasons. To enjoy alcohol and such in an informal setting?" he offered, rewording the question.

"Oh, you mean where men go to get a drink here in Virginia City?" the clerk asked, "There is a bar downstairs if you would like a drink from the hotel bar." he suggested.

"No no, not for me, I am looking for somebody," the stranger replied. "I am looking for someone from this town and thought such a place might be the first place to start looking."

"Who are you looking for, maybe I can help you?" the clerk questioned, liking to think that he was fairly familiar with most residents in this town.

"I am looking for a Monsieur Joseph Cartwright," the stranger explained. "I am a distant cousin from his mother's family and came out here to meet with him," he lied. With the plans he had in mind later on, he didn't see any harm in openly letting people know that he was actively seeking out the young man.

"Little Joe Cartwright, sure I know him. Saw him come into town a few hours ago. You might catch him at the saloon if you are lucky. I saw him walk past the hotel a while ago and haven't seen him leave yet," the clerk informed the stranger.

"Thank you, I think I will go and see if he is still there," the stranger remarked to the clerk. "Where do you say this saloon is please?"

"When you walk out of the hotel, turn left and walk up the street a little ways, you can't miss it. You'll probably hear the noise coming from inside before you get to it anyway," the clerk answered dutifully not convinced that we was giving accurate directions. But within a town this small it didn't really matter, sooner or later one would stumble across the place they were looking for.

"Thank you for your help, you have been most considerate," the stranger said, following the clerk out of his room. He put the hotel key in his pocket and headed down the stairs to the front door.

As he was told, the stranger found the saloon soon enough and peered in over the swing doors. The smokey room prevented him from seeing too much from the outside so he walked in and went towards the end of the bar. He got a few strange looks from the locals inside at the way he was dressed on such a hot day, but they seemed to ignore him and forget just as quickly again that he was there at all.

The stranger moved to sit at small table located towards the back, ordering a bottle of whiskey from the bar-tender, not wanting to appear anymore out of place than he already was. Curiosity started to get the better of him, as he began scanning the bar-room to see if he could find the person he came to town looking for.

When he had first put his plan of action together, the stranger had gathered as much information about Joseph Cartwright and the rest of his family in Virginia City as possible before beginning his journey on the stage coach. The whole point to his visit was to simply sit back and observe the boy's interactions with that family and become very familiar with every facet of the boy's life.

The stranger had known Joe's mother Marie Du Bois for a long time before the boy was even a sparkle in his father's eye. Marie and he had been lovers and actually planned to get married.

All of these plans fell apart when Marie met the man called Benjamin Cartwright. She had fallen in love with him and told the stranger that she didn't love him anymore. Marie had then run off with this Ben Cartwright to Nevada who had promised to build her a life out of nothing more than the bare dry earth.

The stranger had always provided what she had asked for, money, a luxurious home and influential friends, but still that had not been enough. He had grown bitter and hatred towards this Ben Cartwright had been seeded and he vowed that someday he would have his revenge.

The stranger had kept tabs on Ben Cartwright and his family for a number of years through various contacts he had. He learned about the ranch that had started but from a hand full of cattle and a few pines trees into the vast empire that was the Ponderosa today. He knew that by now Ben Cartwright was a very wealthy and influential man himself.

The news of Marie's sudden and tragic death had come more than a dozen years ago and it only seemed to fuel the fire of hatred towards Ben Cartwright. The stranger blamed Ben for not being able to prevent her death and again he sought revenge for himself and for Marie.

Although he had not put his plan for revenge for another fourteen years, until now, the stranger wanted to make sure that he brought Ben Cartwright to his knees. He had even thought about sabotaging some of the Ponderosa's largest contacts of timber and beef. Financially he could make it difficult for Cartwright, but in the stranger's eyes, that wasn't enough of an insult he had been afforded when Marie agreed to marry Ben instead of him.

No, he told himself, to bring the mighty Ben Cartwright to his knees, there had to be something else planned. He had to find out what the most important possession was to Ben and then take it away from him.

The possession that the stranger learned about through his contacts was that of a green-eyed boy that had been born to Ben and Marie. He had been told that the boy was the very image of his mother. The stranger had been told of Ben's affection and protection of the boy throughout his life and particularly after his mother's tragic death.

The stranger couldn't think of a more brutal blow to deal Ben Cartwright, steal away the one thing that meant the world to him and slowly destroy it.

As the stranger looked about the room now, he remembered the description of the boy and his likeness to his mother. His eyes soon came to rest on a small framed young man sitting facing him at the table across the room. The stranger had to keep his own composure as he gazed upon into those emerald green eyes and saw nothing but his beloved Marie.

The stranger could scarcely believe how much the boy really did resemble his mother. Even with a hat on his head, the curls that framed his face fell into the same places as Marie's had done when she brushed them aside. The expressions on the boy's face and the laughter only seemed to emulate his mother's image even more.

He knew right there and then that the simple task of killing Marie's son, just to cause his father a life time of anguish, was not going to be as easy as he first thought.

* * *

Joe's playful laughter could be heard across the room as he continued to play cards at the table with the other men. He did not even heed a guess that he was being watched intently from the other side of the room.

One other man did notice that somebody was indeed looking at Joe though, and that man now swallowed nervously as he saw the shadow of Ben Cartwright loom over the swinging doors to the Saloon.

"Um, Joe…..," the man whispered, trying to get Joe's attention before the young man got himself into any more trouble. Ben stood with his hands on his hips, about five feet behind his youngest son, silently waiting to see how long before he was going to be noticed.

"Yeah what?" Joe demanded as he grumbled about the hand of cards he had been dealt. It wasn't until he looked over at the man and saw the almost fearful look on his face that he turned around in his chair to take a look at what the man was looking at.

Now it was Joe's turn to swallow hard as he looked at his father standing in front of him. He didn't know what to say and so tried his best to charm his father, "Hi, Pa," he greeted meekly, trying to pretend that he hadn't been doing anything his father would not approve of.

"Joseph Francis Cartwright!” Ben bellowed, so that everyone in the bar-room could hear. Joe flinched in reproach as he heard his full name being shouted for all to hear. He knew that whenever his full name was being used in such a manner, that his father was passed beyond annoyance or being mildly upset.

"Would you care to explain what you are doing?" Ben asked, daring his son to offer him a lie as an excuse for what he deemed to be poor choices.

"Um, I got all the supplies loaded up, Pa and the mail collected just like you asked me this morning at breakfast. I was just on my way to get that haircut when I stopped here to have a beer. It's so hot outside," Joe supplied trying to tell his father about the positives of his trip to Virginia City and just how many of his errands he had actually completed.

"Oh, really young man. And it takes over three hours to get a hair cut now does it?" Ben demanded.

"No, but I sort of got side-tracked, Pa," Joe tried to say in his own self- defence. He was a little bit annoyed at having to explain himself to his father in front of the other men at his age. But judging by the expression on his father and the tone of his father's words, it was something he would care to bring up about just right now.

Ben didn't say anything further. He simply held his arm out towards the front doors and pointed with his index finger to indicate what he wanted his son to do.

"Sorry fellas, but I am going to have to sit this hand out and take a rain-check," Joe gave in apology and made sure he scooted past his father's reach out of the saloon. His glass of beer was left on the table half empty.

The other men at the table merely chuckled at the antics between Little Joe and his father. They all knew that Ben didn't approve of any of his sons gambling at playing cards or drinking, no matter how old they were, or if it was Adam or Hoss he had caught either.

The stranger sitting at the end of the bar had sat through the whole thing watching with adept curiosity at the exchanges between father and son. He had recognized Ben instantly when he walked into the room. His hair was a little more silvery on top now than it had been back in New Orleans, but it was still the same Ben Cartwright that had stolen away his precious Marie.

"The young man seemed a little perturbed about having to leave early?" the stranger said as he struck up a conversation with the bar-keeper hoping to gather some more information about the family.

"Who Joe, naw his just a little sore at being pulled out of here in front of all of those men. Little Joe is a bit sensitive when it comes to him being the youngest in the family. He bucks a bit under Ben's protectiveness but you couldn't find a closer relationship between father and son than those two," Sam informed the stranger.

"The man's is a little over-protective of his kin then is he?" the stranger commented casually.

"You bet. There's nothing Ben Cartwright wouldn't do for those three sons of his and it's no secret in this town that his youngest is his favourite too. He loves Adam and Hoss just as much, but not in the same way as he does Joe," Sam reflected as he remembered back over the years and how Ben had always been there for his family when they needed him most.

"That's very interesting," the stranger said as he paid his tab and prepared to return to his room. He had to find out a few more details about the family's plans over the next few days in order to keep his plan on schedule.

He smiled to himself as he tried to think of the worry and anguish he was about to cause Ben Cartwright. He was going to take the boy away from his family, change the way he dressed, the way he talked, even his own name and turn him into everything that Ben Cartwright feared his son would become if left unsupervised to go his own way.

By the time he had finished with Joe Cartwright, Ben Cartwright wouldn't even be able to recognize his own son on a New Orlean's crowded street. He was going to take that special close relationship that he had been openly told they shared and tear it apart, forever.

* * *

The trip home for Ben and Joe had been one in total silence.

Joseph was too angry and upset to talk to his father at the moment, his feelings swirling and balling around inside until they were tied into one big knot. He was aware that there would be a long discussion about today's activities when they got home and he was trying to think of what he would say to his father. But there were other matters that he wanted to say to his father as well.

Things that he had been putting off for far too long he told himself, ever since he started the last two months of the horse-breaking. Somehow the right time never came up and when it did, he had not been able to find the courage to speak to his father honestly about what was bothering him.

Today on this ride home, all that was about to change, as he began to dig deep and ask himself what he was really trying to achieve for himself. With the horse-breaking contract, his life as it currently was on the Ponderosa. Everything.

Ben could see his son's hat pulled down over his face, attempting to hide his true feelings. He knew that his son was less that impressed with the way Joe had been treated in front of the other men inside the saloon.

Ben could see the dark mood settling over his son Joe, and regretted that he had been the cause for it to change from the pleasantness that they had shared just that morning together over breakfast. And last night after supper.

However, Ben was just as determined to demonstrate to his youngest son, that would not allow Joe to become the local drunken derelict. He had a strict set of values for his family and he would see to it that every member of that family adhered to them.

Adam and Hoss were inside the house when they heard the supply wagon pull up outside. They both went outside to start helping unload the wagon when a curt wave from Ben's hand pulled then both up.

By the stern look on Ben's face and the even darker one on their younger brother's expressive face, they could only begin to guess what had transpired between father and son on the way back from Virginia City.

"Joseph, I want those supplies loaded from the wagon and then I want to talk to you in the living room," Ben said in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

Joe didn't even bother to give his father a reply. All he managed was a mere grunt to acknowledge he had heard Ben's words. He then completed the task that he was asked to do. Declaring to himself that he also wanted to talk to his father when he finished unloading the wagon and he was fairly sure that Ben wasn't going to be very happy about what he was going to say.

"What do you suppose happened between those two back in town Adam?" Hoss asked his older brother. Neither of them liked seeing disharmony between the oldest and the youngest Cartwright. But something on both their faces back at the wagon told the two brothers that this wasn't just an ordinary disagreement.

"I don't know Hoss, but I aim to stick around to hear it. By the look on Pa's face, he didn't look to happy and neither did Joe," Adam replied, concern for both family members in his voice.

Ben had come into the living room about fifteen minutes before Joe but had not said anything to Adam or Hoss. He just sat at his desk and waited for his youngest to come into the room.

Joe did what he was told and soon walked purposefully into the living room, practicing what he was going to say, back and forth in his mind. He knew his father and brothers were not going to like what he had to say, but he had made some determined decisions on the way back from Virginia City and he wanted to hear them first-hand.

"Please, sit down, Joseph," Ben started in a calm voice as Joe approached his large desk. He was trying to read his son's mood and gauge if there was any common ground to gain.

"No, Pa. I don't feel much like sitting at the moment," Joe countered as he stood with his hands on his hips, displaying a strong defiant stance to his father's authority.

Ben let out an audible breath of exasperation, running his fingers through his hair as he knew this latest battle had only just begun.

"Joseph, do you have any explanation for your actions this afternoon?" he finally asked, hoping Joe would be old enough now to see the error of his ways, and listen to reason.

"I felt like a beer," Joe retorted in a emotionless voice. He told himself when he first walked into the house that if he truly was going to confront his family about what he had on his mind, it was going to have to be done with hard-headed resolve or he would never get through it.

It was very tough going though and Joe found his efforts just faltering as he looked up at his father's dark brown eyes.

"Joe, you were supposed to load the supplies, collect the mail and then get a haircut," Ben supplied, using a softer tone of voice, hoping it would help cool Joe's temper. "Instead I find you some several hours later inside a saloon, drinking beer and having young ladies hanging off your arm like trophies."

Adam and Hoss exchanged glances, both silently whistling at their younger brother's brash adventures, and being thankful that it wasn't either of them in Joe's shoes when their father had spotted them.

Joe was clearly not happy with this accusation at all and set about asking a demanding question of his own in return, "Tell me, Pa, what would you have done this afternoon if it was Adam or Hoss you found and saw in the saloon?"

Ben stopped to think for a moment, not entirely getting what Joe meant by his words. He didn't think he treated any of his sons differently. Maybe he watched over Joe a little more but that was only natural because he was the youngest. _Wasn't it?_

"Joe, don't you think your being a little sensitive about all of this?" Adam interjected. He immediately regretted his words as he saw his younger brother's anger had quickly been renewed, and his displeased face now turning towards him.

In an instant he closed the gap between them, forcibly grabbing Adam by the front of his black shirt, "If you had any sense in that rock hard skull of yours Adam, you would keep your big mouth shut. I didn't ask for your opinion so keep out of this," he shouted. Joe didn't care that Adam was the oldest or not at the moment.

"Hey, Joe if you are looking for a fight, I can sure give you one," Adam antagonized, feeling himself growing annoyed at the provocative attitude that his younger brother was intent on fixating against everybody in the room.

"Anytime your ready older brother," Joe openly taunted him, waiting for just the right reasoning to fight with Adam.

"Now Adam, this is between Little Joe and Pa," Hoss interjected, putting his large bulky frame between his two riled brothers. He managed to pry Adam's shirt from Joe's clenched fingers and then remove him from the situation before it got any more uglier.

For a moment, Joe was placated that Hoss could see that tempers were going to boil over, and stepped in to take Adam out of the equation. Now that minor spat had been quashed and was out of the way, he now turned back to his father, still waiting for an answer to his question.

"I would have told them that I didn't approve as well, Joe," Ben answered truthfully in reply.

He had almost pulled Adam and Joe apart himself until Hoss stepped in. The talk he wanted to have with his son was quickly threatening to become nothing more than a heated exchange of angry words.

"Yes Pa, you might have, but you wouldn't have waltzed into the saloon and literally dragged them out by the scruff of the neck like you did to me in front of everybody in there," Joe stated, a little anger starting to creep into his voice again.

"Son, I didn't mean to cause shame to you in front of your friends or any of those folk present, but I certainly wouldn't like your brothers being in such a place and doing what you were either," Ben admitted.

"That just it Pa, you did embarrass me,” Joe said, no longer able to stand still in the one spot, and showing his displeasure by turning his back on Ben before continuing.

Turning back around to look directly at his father, “You yelled at me in front of those men in that bar-room like I was a five year old kid, rather than a grown man who can make decisions for himself," Joe alleged.

"What I did or did not do about dragging you out of that saloon doesn't excuse your actions, Joseph," Ben said sternly as he rose from his desk to face his son.

"But I wasn't doing anything wrong Pa, that's just the whole point of this conversation," Joe shouted, as the frustration finally got to him and he forgot all about putting any emotions into what he had to say. All these months of trying to get his family to respect him and accept that he could make good choices for himself as he saw fit.

"I was taking some very rare relaxation time, that I think I have earned after the last couple of hard, grueling months, with some casual friends, Pa. I was sitting inside a bar-room having a drink on a hot afternoon and enjoying the company of some ladies from the saloon," Joe implored as best he knew how for his words to be heard and understood.

"I will not having a son of mine drinking and gambling his life away like some two bit River Boat Gambler," Ben challenged as he too put a little too much emotion into his words.

Joe's sudden burst of anger dissipated and turned into something completely different. Right there at that moment, he truly felt like his family hadn't taken any notice of what he was trying to achieve in the last six months. He had not heard Adam's words of praise only the night before about the great job he had been doing.

"Is that how you truly see me lately, Pa?” Joe asked with a heavy sense of mistrust, the disapproval from son to father clearing showing on Joe's face. The idea or even suggestion that Ben had thought Joe could stoop so low, wounded him very deeply and he was struggling to hide it.

Ben immediately regretted his bad choice of words, but thought he was trying to steer his young son in the right direction by frowning on such activities. Ben started to apologize, "Joe I didn't mean...,"

He could see the hurt that he had caused his son by hurling unfair expectations at him that weren't entirely true. Joe was a long way from being such a person. Yes it was true that Joe could be a little wild, but given the dull life that would exist on the Ponderosa without him, Ben wouldn't change any of it for the world.

Adam and Hoss noted with concern, the topic of discussion had completely changed, just like the atmosphere in the room.

Joe opened his mouth to speak again, but then closed it, the moisture from his mouth drying up all at once so he could scarcely get them out in the correct order. This was one of the hardest set of words, during the last year and a half that he found himself trying to say to his father.

"Pa, when I go away on this horse drive the day after tomorrow.....,"

"Your going to deliver those horses for the army contract in San Francisco aren't you?" Ben asked quietly, trying to figure out what else Joe had in mind for the trip. The deal should go smoothly enough, it had been planned for many months and Joe's schooling of the horses was as always better than anybody could have expected from one so young. Adam was only confirming this last night.

"Afterwards I want some time to do some of my own things," Joe continued, his gaze dropping to the floor briefly, but then back at his father again, as he fidgeted with his hands.

Ben was watching his son's face very carefully. He could see the hint of angry tears that he son refused to let fall. There was much more at stake here than merely been found in a bar-room earlier this afternoon.

"I want a few days to experience life somewhere else than Virginia City and try out new and different things that don't involve livestock or trees. I want to know if I can make it in this world without my father and brothers always being there to hold my hand. I want to be able choose when I eat supper and to go to bed when I feel like it and make my own decisions for a change," he explained. It was the pleading look on his face now that drew Ben's attention the most.

For a moment Ben didn't answer. He almost felt as though someone was driving a stake into his heart. He couldn't even contemplate Joe leaving the Ponderosa. If he experienced life somewhere else though that was a reality that just might be true. What was he to do, did he say no, Joe would probably go anyway and then he wouldn't come back. If Ben said yes, it might be that he still lost him.

Adam and Hoss feared what their brother was asking for. Although Joe considered himself a grown man, there were many things about this world, especially in a city like San Francisco that could take his daytime dreams and turn them into hurtful nightmares that he couldn't escape.

"Is this what you really want, Joseph?" Ben questioned gently.

"Yes it is, Pa," Joe answered, in a quiet voice. He could see the battle within his father whether he should let him go or not and he could see his father's fear for his safety in his eyes. "I want to find out who Joe Cartwright really is. In this town all I am is the son of Ben Cartwright."

"Is that such a bad thing, Joe?" Ben responded, his own thoughts and emotions starting to show about the gravity of what his son was requesting. He was genuinely pleased and proud that people in Virginia City respected him and his sons so much. It hadn't always been like that, especially when he and Joe's mother first moved to town.

"Normally it wouldn't be, Pa,” Joe confirmed with a heart-felt answer. “But right at this very moment I don't even know who I am anymore.”

“I get up, go to work and go the bed again only to get up and do the same old thing all over again the next day. I'm tired of the routine, Pa. I want feel the wind blowing in my hair for a while and let it decide what I do from day to day for a week or so,” he beseeched, his green eyes expressing just how much he needed his father's approval.

“I promise I will come back, but I need to do this for me, don't you understand."

"Alright Joe, when the contract is delivered and the money deposited into the bank you can take a few extra days as a holiday in San Francisco; however there will be few conditions," Ben reluctantly agreed, but with a stern warning, not willing to let his youngest son traipse around the Barbary Coast all alone or any other shady parts of the city.

"You are to book into the _'Plaza Hotel_ ' in San Francisco, so that I know where you are if I need to contact you. I will pay for the hotel," Ben said, starting his list.

"Secondly, I want a telegram sent from you the minute you reach San Francisco to inform me that you arrived safely. And thirdly, promise me that your visit won't take you anywhere that is dangerous like the shipping docks or work-house factories."

"I promise to take care of myself, Pa," Joe answered to all three conditions being placed upon him. Almost holding his breath, he could scarcely believe that Ben was allowing him to go.

"And fourthly, Joseph.....," Ben started to say, walking around his desk to stand directly in front of his son, making sure he had his son's full attention as he spoke. This was not meant to be an enforced condition, but rather an unspoken wish, hope and prayer.

"Promise that you won't spend too long away son. We love you and will miss you," Ben proclaimed with as much caring as he possibly could convey, putting a hand softly on both of his young son's arms and drawing him into an embrace as only as a father could.

Joe could not trust himself to find the right words, and could only respond by surrendering lovingly into his father arms willingly. Even though he was declaring himself to be a man now, even small things such as the reassurance from his family meant so much to him. All of his anger, uncertainty and animosity suddenly melted away to nothing, only to be replaced with kindness, security and love.

"I will come back, Pa," Joe whispered in promise, closing his eyes, and resting his head on Ben's shoulder, so that only his father could hear the words.

* * *

Although he didn't know about Joe's extended holiday once he reached the city, Marchant Seline was making sure that he would indeed come across Joe Cartwright in San Francisco.

At the the International Hotel in Virginia City, the stranger who would soon come into Joe's life was putting together plans for his own final trip away from Virginia City. He felt confident that he had already gathered enough information about his intended target. There was no need to stay and longer and put his revenge at risk.

* * *

The evening meal had been a silent one and very different from the night before. Joe scarcely able hide or mask the excitement about what he was going to do after he reached San Francisco. Ben on the other hand kept his eyes on his plate only to glance across the table at his youngest son with a heavy heart.

The youngest Cartwright was now sitting in front of his bedroom window, with barely contained anticipation, allowing the breeze outside to blow through the curtains. His mind began ticking over about the time he was about to have all on his own. Finally he was free to be Joe Cartwright. He was going to have the time of his life he told himself.

Downstairs later on that evening, after Joe's family had watched him climb the stairs and retire to his room to start planning his extended holiday; Adam and Hoss took it upon themselves to confront their father about what had been decided without their younger brother around to hear their strong arguments against it.

Ben Cartwright, sat in front of the fireplace, quietly sipping at a glass of brandy in his hand staring into the dying flames.

Adam knew it was him that would need to speak for both himself and his larger brother to his father. Hoss felt the same way as he did, but was a little overwhelmed with the thought of confronting their father about such a delicate matter.

Pushing aside all of this formal education though, Adam couldn't help but think that Hoss's normal brunt approach was needed right now.

"You're just going to let him go then?" Adam asked making it more of a statement rather than a question.

"Just let him go," Ben threw back at his eldest son, draining the last of the brandy from his glass before continuing.

"Is that what you think I am doing?" he dared, asking a question of his own.

"No, but I can't stand by and watch you give in so easily to his inexperienced whims and bruised pride, Pa," Adam replied in total seriousness. "Joe belongs here on the Ponderosa," he added emphatically.

"Nobody thinks or believes that more than me son," Ben agreed, his voice full of reflection and contemplation as he picked up the framed photograph of his third wife, Marie.

"We can't just let him go, Pa," Hoss interjected, his emotions about his young brother going out on his own and leaving his family behind getting the better of him.

"What do suggest we do then, Hoss?" Ben requested, turning to face his middle son, almost praying that either of his two son's could come up with a more plausible solution.

"If any one of us pushes Joe too hard in his current state of mind, it is only going to do the exact opposite of what we all want. He is just going get angry and defensive again and want to leave on his own accord and there will be nothing any of us can do about it. I can't be seen as the enemy here. I won't be accused of being the one hammering a stake through this family and driving us apart," Ben vowed.

"Maybe one of us can talk to him and reason with him about postponing his little holiday after the horse contract," Adam suggested, knowing that there wasn't any real substance to his words that could be construed as a workable idea at all.

"Even if that worked, Adam, for even in the short term, how long before he grows bored again and looks to the road ahead and a life away from the Ponderosa? It would be only a matter of time. Delaying the inevitable, may even to somewhere else other than San Francisco that he wouldn't tell us about," Ben said in honesty as he looked back at his eldest son.

Adam felt a little guilty as just having accused his father like that. Now it was he who was struggling to find the words to reply to his father's question.

It was then that the truth really struck home to Adam. During most of this conversation he thought they all had been worried about Joe going away and running into some sort of trouble in San Francisco and not being able to get himself out of it.

Although Ben had built this ranch with the help of Adam and Hoss over the years, it was Joe's ever youthful spirit that kept his father feeling young enough to handle him and any storm of life that may come their way.

Ben told Joe almost every week that he had caused the hair on his head to turn as white as it looked now, both secretly deep down he wouldn't change a day of it since his cherished Joseph Francis was born.

Over the years people from Virginia City and beyond had come to describe and think of the Ponderosa as a living breathing entity rather than just another cattle and horse ranch. At times some of the town folk swore that if you could ever make you way to the very centre of the Ponderosa, you would truly find a live beating heart.

Was he too selfish to want Joe to remain on the ranch forever? Maybe he thought, answering his own question.

Now looking into his father's warm, troubled brown eyes, Adam saw for the first time, what was really causing Ben the most distress. Whilst it was true that Ben was worried about Joe's physical well-being and being able to take care of himself in a strange city.

What scared Ben the most was the thought that once he left, Joe might never return to the Ponderosa. The fear was a very real one and Adam could see the worry spreading across his father's face like a dark stain.

Unlike the rest of the family, Joe had been born and raised on the Ponderosa. He had the soil etched in his skin that could never be wash away with plain soap and water. He had the sky overhead in his hair and the warmth from the sun had tanned his skin. The colour of the pine trees was held in his emerald green eyes.

Ben could scarcely come to think about what would happen to his beloved Ponderosa if Joe decided never to return. Oh he might work and get around as normal for a while. Putting on a performance worthy of any stage actor about how he truly felt. But if that day ever came, Ben couldn't deny that deep down inside there would be an emptiness that could never be filled again.

To be continued

Jules


	2. Long Dangerous Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stranger from Ben's past is about to come into the life of his youngest son, intending to tear down the close father/son relationship they share. In the process of being written with more complicated content and hopefully a better story. Second Chapter has now been edited, added to and posted. (July 2019)

**RIVERBOAT GAMBLER**

**By Jules  
**

**Chapter Two – Long Dangerous Road**

_and now the story turns another page and continues:_

The next morning, Joe made sure he was bright and early, dressed and ready for work before either of his brothers. He deliberately made no mention of the discussions that had happened the day before, and had no knowledge of the concerns that his family had shared with each other about his impending vacation.

Today he wasn't going to do anything to upset his little victory with his father, and that included allowing Hoss or Adam, or his father talking to him about altering his plans or changing his mind about what had been agreed upon.

There was still a lot of work to do today, and he forced himself to remain focused on it and not be distracted. At breakfast he organised to accompany his father into Virginia City. A telegram was sent to the _Plaza Hotel_ in reservation for his room once he arrived in San Franscisco. After that he and Ben spent time at the bank, organising funds for his journey and any that he would need once the horse contract had been fulfilled.

After lunch, he had spent a large portion of the afternoon down at the corral going through the tack and selecting what he and the men would need tomorrow. He had spoken to the men that had been down at the corral yesterday afternoon and left the tack in such a state. His _'talk'_ consisted him of reminding them in no uncertain terms what he thought of their carelessness and that there wasn't to be a repeat while they worked for him.

Later in the day he had returned to the homestead and barn to add anything that hadn't already been accounted for. He was determined to show his brothers that he wasn't going to let the idea of a vacation impede his judgment or overshadow the important work that lay before him and the men that had been selected to ride with him.

Supper time had been a very quiet affair, with very little conversation at the table. The occasional glances Joe stole towards his father, only made him start to feel to question his plans without interference. Ben tried to share in his son's excitement about leaving tomorrow, but knew his efforts were lacking and any positive comment he made about the journey were a poor substitute for what was really troubling his heart.

The nightly checker game with Hoss has been missed again as Joe wanted to make sure that he was well rested, because it wouldn't take too long now for the sun to rise and the long road to San Francisco to begin.

* * *

Early the next morning, the yard outside the Ponderosa homestead was a hive of activity as Joe and the hands prepared the horses to begin the long arduous drive.

Joe had broken about twenty horses over the last nine weeks and out of that number, twelve had been hand picked by him to school for the army as per the arranged contract. The other eight horses would be left until he returned for some further schooling. Like people, some horses took a little more time to learn than others. They all varied in character and personality.

When Joe first started breaking them in, he began by culling out the rogues in the mob and trying to curb any mean streaks that surfaced. Once he had calmed the one or two surly horses, the others followed the lead and became much easier and quieter to work with.

After two or three weeks, Joe had already made a mental note of which animals would make good horses for the army and which ones were showing signs of being a little obstinate.

Unfortunately horses that were contracted out to the army didn't have a very long life span. Most of them were worked exceedingly hard and their living conditions were often harsher than those of fellow horses that were employed on the ranch.

When riding on long treks from one Army fort to another, the horses needed to have steady feet and the endurance to handle long periods on little water and feed. They were also often expected to perform under adverse weather conditions such as rain and burning sun.

Joe took pride in the fact that he was in charge of selecting the horses and then schooling them. Over the last few months, Joe's was already gaining a strong reputation as a top horseman was being spoken of in wider circles both in Virginia City and further a field.

The were to be five riders on this journey to San Francisco. Joe would be in charge together with Mark Douglas and Howard Nichols as the two main handlers. There were two others hands from the ranch that would ride a bit wider than the others.

If the horses got spooked at any time along the trail, it would be the job of the _'Ridge Riders'_ as they were often called to try and stop the horses from getting to far away from the handlers.

Each handler had four horses tethered to each other in a long line. There was a good distance between each horse and enough slack rein between them to ensure enough movement but be short enough to prevent any one of them trying to make a break for it.

The three rows of horses now standing in the yard very calm and still for the moment. The only movement from the animals themselves was the swishing of their tails and shaking of their heads to avoid the copious swarm of flies that were annoying them.

Out of all the horses in the yard at the moment, the one mount that was showing a little excitement in his gait with anticipation for the tough ride ahead was Joe's own mount Cochise.

The pinto loved to feel the gentle but firm slight nudges from his rider's thighs, signalling for him to move in a particular direction, often at great speed and needing to change direction in a split section with another tug on his bridle.

Joe was a confident rider and Cochise knew his rider's instincts and abilities when it came to handling a larger number of horses. The rider and horse often worked better together then two men. Somehow the animal was aware of what his master was wanting him to do.

Just as equally, Joe had come to trust and rely on Cochise in these difficult situations many times. He knew that the horse didn't need any extra instruction and was often amazed with pride at how the horse somehow knew what to do at the right moment.

Joe knew that underneath him was a friend that wouldn't let him down no matter how hard the trail got. And there was always that burst of speed from the horse just at the right time, when the young man needed it to rein in an animal that had tried to take flight, causing the rest of the mob to become unsettled.

Mark Douglas and Howard Nichols were both the most skilled horse handlers that had been selected from the timber camp and Hoss's cattle wranglers, to assist Joe over the last eight weeks. Both had proven to be quite good with horses. Douglas probably more so that Nichols.

There were times during the weeks of schooling, Joe couldn't help but remember how things had become frayed and strained at times. Whilst Douglas was quite good with the horses, he also had no patience whatsoever with them.

There had been at least two heated arguments between Douglas and Joe over the harsh methods the handler decided to use against an unco-operating animal.

Whilst Joe was one not to let a horse get the better of him, he felt strongly that there was absolutely no need for physical violence against them. That only made them less willing to obey commands the next time they had to be handled.

Joe knew that because he was the one in charge of the operation, despite his usual tendency to lose his temper just as quick as Douglas, he had to remain calm, cool and in authority if he wanted the men believing he was up to the task of taking the horses all the way to San Francisco.

Ben stood in the background watched as Joe walk along each row of horses, carefully checking the harnessing to make sure everything looked in order. It wasn't that he didn't trust what Douglas and Nichols had done. It was habit that he had taught himself, to make sure things were in order.

Joe was ultimately be in charge of both men and horses and if anything was to happen out on the trail, then he would be relied on to be decisive and make quick and fair judgments based on each occurrence or problem at any given time.

Ben was proud of his son as he watch Joe go through all the rules about horsemanship that he had been taught by both is father and his brothers over the years.

All the teaching was now paying off tenfold as Ben stood back and allowed Joe to not only manage his first horse-breaking operation, but also to complete the contract deal that would see them through the year and pay handsomely with any luck.

Joe might be young, but his heart didn't rule his head when it came to horses and what was good or bad for the Ponderosa. Ben was confident that he could depend on his son to make the right decisions during those times.

Ben wished Joe would exercise some of the same level of restraint when it came to his socialising and gambling in the Virginia City saloons. He knew that some other young men Joe's age were much more fond of drinking and playing cards than his son. After the brief argument he had with his youngest son only yesterday, the Patriarch knew that he was fortunate enough being the father of three sons such as Adam, Hoss and Joe.

He regretted the impulsive steps he had taken yesterday afternoon to object to what he saw at the saloon in Virginia City. By giving in to the request for a little more freedom after the drive, he had hoped that he had gone some way to repairing the hurt that he had caused Joseph at his unfair accusation.

There were times when Joe and his brothers worked darn hard for weeks on end with very few breaks in between and sometimes he couldn't begrudge them some social time in town with their various circles of friends.

But there were other times when Joe had shown less than respect for his father's authority and had snuck out at night to attend a late night pre-arranged all night gambling session at the tables and plenty of alcohol on offer. The money he had worked so hard for weeks on end, soon wore a huge hole in his pocket and he would be broke by the end of a pay week again.

* * *

Mark Douglas had loaded his meagre supplies on his horse and was waiting for the young Cartwright drive boss to give the signal for them to get under way on the road to San Francisco.

Douglas had not appreciated Joe's trade mark temper surfacing yesterday as he found himself being berated harshly or the way he and Nichols had left the tack down at the corral. Now he was standing with Howard Nichols, watching Joe go over their riggings and check their work. Usually Douglas wouldn't let something like this get under his skin too much.

This drive was going to be different. This time the drive boss was almost half his age, and had a stubborn streak in him half a mile wide, as though he had been toughened on the trail for years. Joe was alright when it came to his knowledge about horses but Douglas wasn't quite so sure about how long he would be able to take the orders from the younger man.

Joe Cartwright was the son of the Cattle Baron, Ben Cartwright. Douglas was sure that over the years Joe's father had taught him that there was a vast divide between the likes of common everyday garden variety ranch hands, and hired help such as himself and Nichols.

It stood to reason, Douglas would have taught his own son in the same manner if he was married and had a family of his own.

Joe was now finished checking over the reins and harnesses. He was now checking out the horses themselves. He ran his hands skilfully and slowly down their rumps and then all four legs to make sure there was no sign of heat in the animals fetlocks or muscles.

"How are they holding up son?" Ben asked as he approached, trying to drum up what might be the last conversation with Joe for the best part of more than two weeks.

"Quite good actually, Pa," Joe replied as he checked the last horse and stood back up to look at his father as he spoke to him.

"No signs of any injuries at this time and they are well fed and watered until later on this afternoon. If everything goes okay on the trail, we should make fairly good time today," he added in hopefulness.

Joe had set himself a schedule at the beginning of the whole contract. The schedule not only factored in the schooling of the horses, but also the time intended to take them on the trail to the army and how much time he may lose during that time and have to try and make up for somewhere if possible.

Joe was his own worst task-master, but that was part of what made up his reputation as a good horseman. Joe would never take the needs of the horses or his men for granted and he made sure that he had was part of every step of preparation along the way.

"Here, Lil' Joe," Hop Sing said as he came out carrying two largish size saddle bags. One was full of the work clothes that Joe would use on the trail, the second one wouldn't get opened until they reached San Francisco. The second saddle bag contained some nice dress shirts and pants that he could wear out when he began his holiday after the contract was completed.

"Thanks, Hop Sing," Joe said gratefully, taking the bags from the little Cantonese man and going about attaching them securely to the back of his horse.

There were other saddle bags full of food and essential items that were evenly distributed to the other hands.

"Well, just about ready to head out I think," Joe said, more of a statement signalling for the other riders to get mounted and ready to begin. They had an incredibly long and difficult day ahead as it was.

"You take care of yourself, Joe, ya hear," Hoss said first as he bid his younger brother farewell. He knew that his father would have the most to say and left him to come up with the right words that might make Joe listen.

"I'll bring something back for you from San Francisco, Hoss," Joe said as he shook his brother's hand firmly and clapped him solidly on the back with affection.

"That would be real nice of you, Joe," Hoss said.

Adam was the next to stay goodbye. He wanted to give Joe some words of warning of his own about taking care of himself and making it back safely the Ponderosa.

"Make sure you get a good price for those animals, Joe. You have worked too hard on them over the last few months not to. Just don't go spending all of Pa's good money on yourself when you finally reach San Francisco," Adam poked in fun.

"I am definitely not bringing you anything back with all that money I am going to make," Joe said in quick reply to his brother's wit.

"I'll let you know how the Barbary Coast looks this time of year big brother," Joe added and shook Adam's hand before looking to say goodbye to his father.

"You won't be going near any such places young man," Ben said in mock sternness, careful of not falling into the same trap he had only recently with pulling Joe from the saloon. He didn't want his son thinking that he was becoming overbearing again just because Joe was making idle comments about places that Ben hoped he steered well clear of during his vacation.

"Look son, I don't want to say too much before you leave," Ben said, the statement was definitely a lie. There were many things that he ached to tell the young man but knew he must refrain from doing so.

Adam and Hoss just looked at each other as Ben said this statement and silently grinned between themselves about such a comment from their father.

"I hope the trail goes well for you. When you get there, please let me know that you got there safely. After that, enjoy yourself, but remember that we would like to hear from you once in a while. When you are ready to come back home, we will be waiting right here for you," Ben said, making sure that he had Joe's full attention the whole time.

"I will, Pa," Joe said, knowing that there was indeed a large amount of respect and love between him and his father, no matter how much either one of them tried not to show it in front of others.

"I'll see you…" he said as he quickly jumped onto Cochise's saddle.

Ben smiled and waved at his youngest son as the group of riders each took up their length of reins for the horses they had and started forward on their journey.

He couldn't help but note that Joe's last comment had held no real indication whether the boy was coming home or not. He had made no mention of coming back to the Ponderosa.

"He'll come back, Pa," Adam said as he and Hoss walked over and stood beside their father. They could see the concern he held for his son.

Ben knew that his two eldest son's were trying their best to cheer him up. He wouldn't put his mounting worries to rest though until after he received that telegram from San Francisco telling them that he had arrived.

Maybe he could catch a stage to the San Francisco after Joe arrived and join him on his vacation he pondered, but then scolded himself for falling back into old habits yet again about wanting to watch over Joe.

* * *

Coming towards the second day on the trail and Joe was already beginning to see signs that the tempers of the men were becoming frayed. The group had started out at a relatively good pace but the road was not as smooth as he would have liked.

The ground was uneven in places, making the need for concentration on the horses behaving even greater. In addition to the terrain being a hindrance, by midday the sun was beating down upon them mercilessly.

Joe suspected that he, Douglas and Nichols got a better deal than the Ridge Riders. He had seen them take off their shirts on the first night and noted how sunburned the back of their necks were where the collars didn't fully meet the brim of their hats.

Water was at a premium though on this trail and they were fortunate enough to have found a stream nearby on each night to soak some of the aches out of their muscles.

Joe had to concern himself with the prospect that the water might grow scarce as the trail lengthened. There might come a day when they would have only their own meagre water canteens to sustain them through may long and hot hours.

The landscape itself was particularly dry this time of year. Joe could remember passing along this way during cooler months and not having witnessed the barrenness that seemed to exist now.

At night when the men were camped, Joe could feel their uncertain stares towards him and their reluctance to involve him in any friendly conversation. He didn't take it to heart and knew that the men were uncomfortable with a younger man giving them directions and orders.

Nichols had complained a couple of times about the fact that the camp was a dry one. He had been on other drives that had allowed the workers to indulge in a drink around the campfire, so long as it didn't get out of hand and the stock were cared for.

On this trip however, Joe had made it clear from the very start that there would be no alcohol consumption until they reached the way station at Peak's Crossing. It was a small place that usually catered for the passengers changing stages and heading either west or east, depending on their intentions.

They would reach Peak's Crossing in two days time, with only the final leg of the drive to be completed after that. Joe had agreed to allow the men to have a social drink when they got there and no more. They would be able to enjoy their drink and gambling all they liked once they reached San Francisco and the task at hand was finished.

Joe had seen words of objection on Douglas's lips, but stood his ground and never backed down from the larger built man. He needed the men to believe that he was in control of this trip and everything that happened on it, including the workers.

The men needed to know that once a decision was made and a direction given, that it was to be carried out as quickly and accurately as possible. Joe tried to employ many of the same tactics and mannerisms that he had seen Adam and his father use towards the hands on similar trips or back at the ranch.

Douglas had walked away with a scowl on his face, but let the matter drop for the time being. His eyes flashed dangerously as he sat by the fire and looked back at Joe.

Joe had ignored the glare and gone about checking each individual horse again that night for any signs of lameness or injury to their legs. He needed to make sure that there were no underlying problems that would go undetected until something occurred out on the trail when they least expected it.

Douglas had already told him that the animals were still in good condition, but Joe wanted to satisfy himself of that.

Joe found himself taking over much of the watch patrol at night, if only to prove to himself that he could take on such a large responsibility and come out the other end with the respect from the men he had chosen. He had a few hours sleep the first night and spent most of the time going back over their intended route in his head.

When he could rest, Joe lay down on his bedroll that second night, forcing himself to relax, but also telling himself that he needed to keep a closer eye on Nichols and Douglas for the remainder of the journey.

* * *

The first two days after Joe left had played out entirely differently back at the Ponderosa. The family had tried to go about their routine as normally as possible, but little things began happening that only reminded them of the fact that the family was incomplete.

Whilst Ben was surely the most worried and concerned about his son's absence, he had plenty of reason to think that Hoss and Adam and indeed even Hop Sing were missing the youngest Cartwright every bit as much as he was.

On the first night when Joe would have been having coffee and a meal over an open fire, his father and brothers were dining at the table at the Ponderosa. The chatter was friendly enough and there was even some laughter amongst the conversation.

To Ben it felt strange that there wasn't any boisterous interruptions as they spoke or funny faces being pulled between Hoss and Joe as they often did. The food was good and the company was enjoyable, but it just didn't seem the same. His eyes drifting to the vacant chair on his right on more than one occasion those nights.

Hoss was most embarrassed the next morning when he had accidentally walked into Joe's room, as was normally his task most mornings, as if to wake his sleeping sibling for the day ahead.

He came out of the room shaking his head at forgetting that Joe was away only to give a sheepish grin to his father and brother who had watched him climb up the stairs to the empty room with raised eyebrows.

"I forgot," Hoss offered in a lower voice and went downstairs to hide his embarrassment at the breakfast table.

It was soon discovered that it wasn't only the larger Cartwright who had temporarily forgotten that Joe was away from the ranch. Ben and Adam had joined Hoss at the breakfast table and were preparing to eat when Hop Sing came into the room laden with china plates.

Hop Sing went to lay out the plates like he did three times a day and shook his head at himself when he came to the fourth plate and realised that he had gotten out one too many.

Adam and Hoss had laughed quietly at the oriental man's mistake, but Ben knew that Joe's absence was affecting everyone in the family, including Hop Sing.

Although they knew that Joe was away on a horse drive, and had been away in the past, they couldn't help but think that the trip would soon be over and that Joe would be making some other important decisions in his life: such as whether he was coming back or not.

Later in the day, Adam had come out of his room, annoyed that it seemed his younger brother had yet again seen it necessary to take a book from his room without asking for it. He knew that Joe wouldn't damage the book, but he wasn't able to confront him about it either at the moment.

Adam walked into Joe's room and found the missing book on his bedside table, laying there just as innocently as you please. The bed was made and the room was clean and tidy, but as he looked about and noticed the silence within, he couldn't help but think to himself about how much the atmosphere in the room changed when the usual occupant was away.

_“Funny how you don't know what you miss until it's gone,”_ Ben whispered to himself as he raised his coffee cup to his lips and sipped at the hot liquid by the fireplace late that night.

* * *

The second night, Ben and his boys were about to stumble across some information that would later prove vital, only they didn't realise it at that time.

Hoss and Adam had offered to take their father to dinner at the hotel in Virginia City to try and get him thinking of other things for a few hours instead of Joe. It had worked at first and Ben felt a little more relaxed than he would have like to admit to once they had eaten and were now talking quietly over a coffee.

"Howdy, Ben, Hoss, Adam," Sheriff Roy Coffee said as he walked into the establishment and greeted the family.

"What brings you into town to eat tonight?" he asked, knowing that dining out for the family was not an every night occurrence.

"Had to bring him out before Hop Sing quit, Roy," Hoss said with a chuckle. "He was ranting and raving about everyone not eating his cooking and so to keep the peace tonight we thought we'd bring Pa here."

Roy laughed at the comment but knew all too well that their thoughts were about Little Joe. Another voice now interrupted everyone's train of thought for a minute as someone behind him spoke.

"How are you this evening, Mr Cartwright?" the hotel clerk asked, directing his question specifically at Ben. He knew the amount of influence that a man in Ben's position held over many folk in Virginia City and wanted to see that his best patron was well looked after tonight.

"Fine thanks, Harry," Ben said warmly to the clerk. He didn't particularly like all of the attention, but knew that the man was only trying to do his job.

"Say did that stranger in town the other day finally meet up with Joe?" the clerk asked innocently.

"What stranger?" Hoss asked, confused by the question. He could see his father and brother now taking a little keener interest in what the clerk had to say as well.

Suddenly the clerk looked uncomfortable, as if he had told a secret that he had promised to keep.

"Um, I am sorry, Mr Cartwright, I wouldn't have said anything now except for the fact that I thought you already knew him."

"Who was he, Harry?" Roy asked, seeing a little uneasiness creep into Ben's demeanour.

"Well, I don't rightly remember his name. 'Cept for the fact that he was all dressed up like them folk back east. Came to the hotel and booked a room. I took his bags up to the room myself. As soon as we got there he asked where he might find a place where younger people socialised," he explained.

"Doesn't seem to be any harm in that," Hoss said, beginning to think that they were getting edgy over nothing.

"No, Hoss, but the funny thing is that he started asking about places that Joe might go to," the clerk said, wringing his hands together nervously as he spoke.

"Why would he be specifically looking for Joe?" Ben asked, now a little more intrigued, not being able to forget that if something was amiss that his son was now quite a distance away for him to be of any help.

"He didn't seem like a dangerous man Ben, quite the opposite actually," the clerk said, trying to expel any of Ben's already mounting concerns.

"Like I said, he was dressed up and didn't carry a gun that I could see. I told him to try the local saloon."

"Wait a minute, that might have been the same day you dragged Joe out of there, Pa," Hoss voiced.

Adam was now deep in his own thoughts about what connections this apparent stranger might have had with his youngest brother.

"Did you have any other dealing with this man, Harry?" Ben asked.

"Well yes, he came down early yesterday morning before the stage departed and was asking about which route to take if someone was going to San Francisco," the clerk mumbled.

If Ben's wasn't concerned before, upon hearing this statement he couldn't hide it any longer. _Why would someone be looking for Joe?_ he worried, knowing there could be any number of reasons.

"Hold up there a minute Ben, if this is the guy I saw getting on the stage this morning, then he got on the wrong stage. He was headed in the other direction, away from Joe," Roy informed them.

"Are you sure, Roy?" Ben questioned.

"Yes, Ben, saw him get on it myself, not a minute before it left," Roy affirmed. "He will have to wait until the day after tomorrow to get another stage in this direction or get on one to San Francisco.

"I only saw two other men get on the stage towards San Francisco after he had already left," Roy stated.

Little did he and Ben know that these two men had been bought off as spies by Marchant Seline.

Seline had paid particular attention to detail and made sure that the Sheriff and other witnesses saw him leave on a different stage in case questions were asked at a later time.

Ben's concern seemed to diminish a little at this piece of information. Maybe the man had heard Joe's name somewhere and was just trying to catch up as an old acquaintance.

"Well we had better be off towards home now anyway," Ben announced. "Got a busy day planned tomorrow. I don't think we have anything to worry about with this stranger, seeing as how he went the opposite way from Joe."

"I can get in contact with the stage that left this morning Ben, if that will ease your mind any. But I won't be able to get an answer back for two or three days. The telegraph from those remote places is slower than normal and that's if they have one in the first place.”

Ben was about to refuse the offer at first, but something in the pit of his stomach changed his mind. "That would be appreciated, Roy," he said, putting a hand on the Sheriff's shoulder in appreciation before heading out the door.

On the ride home, Ben admonished his own thoughts and reminded himself that Joe was now over two days away from Virginia City and that he was unlikely to come into contact with the stranger anytime soon.

* * *

Sunlight was just beginning to fade on day three of Joe's horse drive, when he came across a nicely shaded area and told the men to make camp for the night and attend to the horses.

Douglas, Nichols and the two Ridge Riders went about tying ropes around a few of the trees to act as a temporary corral for the animals. But the aches in their muscles made them become complacent and more worried about their own need for food and refreshment over the well-being and security of the horses.

Nichols had tied the lead ropes from the horses to the rope barriers, but they were not tight enough and would not stand up under sudden stress or movement from the horses.

Douglas and the other two riders concerned themselves with digging a right angled pit in the middle of the camp area and brewing some much sort after hot coffee.

Initially Joe had thought that everything was under control enough for him to slip down to the freshwater stream a short distance away and try and rub some of the dust and grit out of his eyes.

Joe wandered down to the water and dipped his hands into it. The soothing feeling was almost immediate and he suddenly wished he could plunge his entire body into such refreshing and cool surroundings. His muscles literally begged for him to submerge them, but he held himself back and knew that he couldn't afford the luxury of a bath right now.

For the time being he had to be content with just removing his shirt and splashing the cold water over his neck and shoulders, closing his eyes and revelling in the relief.

Joe slung his shirt over his shoulders and picked up his gun belt and began walking back towards the rest of the men at the camp. His hat was on his head and he held onto his rifle in his left hand.

Joe had only just rested his rifle against the trunk of a tree when he heard a wild and panicked yell from behind him from the men. Suddenly the entire camp was a whirl with dust as the horses broke free of their confinement and tried to take off.

"The horses are loose," one of the men shouted. "Get the horses."

Joe was forced to drop any thing else he had been holding in his hands and try and help calm the frightened animals enough to stop them fleeing in panic.

Fortunately for Joe and the men, the fact that the horses were tethered together in threes, made it slightly easier to catch them. Joe knew that if the horses had been separated, then they would have had little or no chance of rounding them all up without a long chase.

The dust grew thicker and thicker until all the men were coughing harshly, feeling the grit and dirt in their mouths and noses. The dust was choking from all of the hooves, making visibility very poor and the risk of serious injury great if one of the horses was to kick out suddenly.

It took over an hour to finally round the skittish animals up and retie the flimsy knots with stronger ones that wouldn't loosen. Joe had just finished tying the last knot, whilst the other four men were gathered around the camp fire, taking large drinks from their water canteens to try and wash down the dirt and grit still in their mouths.

All of them had slumped shoulders from the extra exertion. They already had sore and aching muscles from the day's journey. Now they reignited ten fold in all with having to try and run just to catch the animals.

Joe was no different from any of the men, say for the fact that he probably had a lot more dirt on him due to being without his shirt at the time. Most of his chest and back were now covered in a thin layer of dust as too his face. His hair hung in limp tendrils about his face, plastered there with the amount of sweat he was producing.

The men could see Joe walking towards them and would have laughed out loud at the sight of the drive boss had it not been for the piercing look from his green eyes that narrowed in the direction of Nichols and Douglas.

The two Ridge Riders had enough sense about them and Joe's temper to back away a little, leaving the two main offenders to face Joe Cartwright's wrath on their own.

Douglas seemed to be indifferent to the whole thing and didn't seem the least bit interested that the whole trip had almost come to an abrupt halt not to mention the risk of injury to both man and animal. Joe had taken a closer look at the horses as he reconstructed the rope made corral and was thankful that none of the horses had to be put down.

Nichols saw Joe approaching with an angry look on his face and looked towards the ground knowing that the securing of the horses had been mainly Douglas's and his responsibility.

Douglas made no attempt to look at Joe as he walked towards them, choosing instead to casually pour himself a cup of coffee from the pot still brewing beside the camp fire.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?" Joe demanded angrily. His shoulders were taunt with his temper making his muscles more defined and sharper in appearance.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Little Joe," Douglas replied calmly, looking briefly at Nichols and giving a smirk as if to confirm that he knew the young man's temper was getting the better of him.

"Oh you don't do you?" Joe challenged, knocking the coffee pot out of his hand and letting the contents spill out and soak into the earth.

"You and Nichols were supposed to tie those ropes properly to prevent this happening in the first place," he accused.

"We did Mr Cartwright, but I guess we were a little more tired than we first thought. We needed to get some coffee and something to eat," Nichols chimed in looking at Douglas for back up.

"Let me tell you something mister, those animals are our priority at the moment. You don't eat, sleep or do anything else until they are looked after and seen too properly first. This is a drive, not a sunday picnic. I am paying you good money to do your jobs and I expect them to be done without question," Joe stated, trying to control his temper but still seething at the care-free attitude they both seemed to have adopted.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" Joe asked Nichols, his eyes staring down at the man. Nichols however always had a cowardly side to him and looked towards Douglas first before answering.

"I asked _'you'_ the question. Don't ask him, answer me!" Joe demanded. He had seen Nichols look to Douglas for confirmation or an answer on a few occasions over the last few days, but up until now had held his tongue.

"I guess we just slackened off a some, Joe," Nichols offered in apology.

"Damn right you two slackened off. Well it's not going to happen again. I still have to rely on you two to help get these horses as far as San Francisco. After that I don't care what you do. So get this camp site cleaned up and then get into your bed rolls and get some sleep because it's going to be an early rise in the morning," Joe continued, his voice not being able to portray his frustration enough.

For the second time that day, Joe picked up a small hand towel and draped it over his bare and dusty shoulder as he headed down to the stream to clean up.

Douglas had kept quiet while Joe had spoken at him and Nichols over their carelessness. He knew they were at fault but still didn't like the fact being thrown back in their faces and chastised in front of the other men.

Normally he wouldn't have stood for such a talking down from someone half his age, but he had to admit that the kid handled the situation no differently than his old man would have. He was sort of glad it was Joe and not Ben Cartwright he had faced for such foolhardy behaviour.

Ben would have had no hesitation in giving him and Nichols their marching papers, even out here in the middle of the drive. Ben had a reputation for being fair and honest with his workers, but it was also well known that he demanded that they keep focused on their assigned jobs.

Maybe Joe Cartwright had learned a great deal more from his father than Douglas initially gave him credit for. Given the circumstances, they were currently in the camped in the middle of nowhere so there little point in making a great fuss of it out here.

Later that night, Joe had taken over watch duty and leaned quietly against a tree, gazing about the surrounding darkness, using his ears and keen senses for any sign of wild animals that might be alerted by the scent of the horses.

He began thinking over what he had said to the two men Douglas and Nichols and how he had handled the situation. It could have easily escalated even more and gotten out of hand for all involved.

Joe tried to envisage how his father would have handled such a matter or Adam. He had tried to remember back to times back on the ranch where workers had to be chastised for things they had done carelessly or dangerously.

He was thankful that things had turned out alright in the end but knew that the mood amongst the men tomorrow would be much more reserved and sombre, even a little unfriendly and non-talkative.

* * *

The next morning in camp, the atmosphere was as unfriendly as Joe surmised the night before. The Ridge Riders had risen and eaten and greeted Joe while he poured his coffee.

As soon as Douglas and Nichols rose from their bed rolls, they made themselves scarce and went to attend the horses before they were due to get under way on what was no doubt going to be a long tortuously hot day.

The trail that day was as hot and monotonous as it had been the previous three days. With very little in the way of scenery and even less in conversation, Joe was forced to keep his eyes open for any signs of trouble.

The sweat that dripped from the men ran off their bodies in exhausting amounts, making the need to drink water essential to keep moving and stay alert.

As luck would have it, this night the group of riders would be lucky enough to have sheltered accommodations for the evening instead of the rocky hard ground they had endured so far on the trip.

Luck smiled upon them as a stage way station that Joe had known about before they left the Ponderosa. There was an audible sigh of relief from all at the sight of the small, mud brick building that was surrounded by a few poorly maintained corrals.

The slower pace throughout the day had Joe contemplating whether they would even reach this place by now. At one point he thought the trip might be unavoidably lengthened and they would not come across the crossing until mid tomorrow morning.

A man in his mid 50's came out of the building at the sound of the horses. Joe had wired the man a week ago to tell them of their impending arrival sometime late this week and the need for shelter for both the men and the horses.

The man's name was Hank Sullivan. He and his wife Lillian ran the small stage stop, offering a little piece of comfort to most travellers passing by this way before they headed east or west to their intended destinations.

"I take it you're Joe Cartwright," Sullivan said as he greeted the men before they dismounted from their horses. Sullivan had actually been addressing Mark Douglas, thinking that the older man would be in charge of the drive.

"No he's not, I am Joe Cartwright," Joe said, hiding his frustration that he was overlooked just because he appeared much younger than expected.

"I believe you received my wire telling you that we would be arriving?" he asked, putting aside any hurt feelings he was harbouring.

"Sorry, Mister Cartwright, I didn't mean any offence, just assumed that you would be older," Sullivan offered in apology.

"I get that a lot unfortunately, but you can called me Joe," the young man replied, feeling that his age and lack of experience was being held out in front of him. This was exactly the type of treatment and misunderstanding that he was trying to escape back in Virginia City.

"The corrals are all ready for you Joe, they are a little older than I would like to admit, but they will keep the animals there until morning until your ready to leave again. When you are finished there, Lillian has supper almost ready and there is plenty of whisky to go around if you or any of your workers are of a mind to have a drink," Sullivan instructed.

"I suppose a couple of drinks couldn't hurt," Joe said to the men, knowing that the day had been rough on all.

"Douglas, you and Nichols get inside and stow our gear while you other two men and I get the horses penned in the corral. When you are finished get some of the dirt off you and get some food into you. I don't mind you having one or two drinks, but don't let it go to your head, we still have at least a full day ahead tomorrow and we have to cross the river."

Douglas and Nichols didn't voice any objections to the order of events, nor did either of the Ridge Riders, thankful to be able to get out of the saddle for a couple of hours and enjoy a meal without moving around on the back of a horse.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Joe and the two Ridge Riders found themselves as dusty and dirty as the day before, but thankfully heading off to their rooms for a long awaited bath and shave before heading into the main room for dinner.

The bath water was cold but after being on the road for three days with nothing but the running water in the streams for their complaints, a tin bath that was big enough to soak in was considered a luxury and gratefully accepted.

By the time Little Joe had finished and made himself more presentable, the other men had already made it to the meal table and were halfway through their dinner. The only other people in the room Joe noted apart from his own men were two strangers seated together at a smaller table.

The two strangers were dressed in travelling clothes, both of slim build but Joe couldn't shake the feeling that they were watching him as soon as he walked into the room.

Lillian Sullivan was serving the food and drink and greeted him warmly before seating Joe at the far end of the table and placing a plate in front of him. He had no doubts that the food couldn't be as good as what he was used to from Hop Sing. But the food was hot and plentiful and he was grateful to be eating something that hadn't been char grilled over an open flame.

Joe ate his meal slowly and was almost finished when he noted that the conversation between the other men at the other end of the table was growing louder and somewhat boisterous.

He had seen that Douglas and Nichols in particular had taken on-board too much to drink, after he specifically remembered telling them to take it easy. He had a good mind to confront them here and now but erred on the side of caution and found his attention drifting back towards the two strangers seated in the room.

"Hello, my name's Joe," he said as he walked over giving starting off the conversation. He hadn't been able to shake the idea that they had been watching him all night so decided to take up the task and approach them first. He offered a firm handshake to both men, who had returned the greeting.

"Won't you have a seat with us, Joe," the thin man said. "My name is Foster Edwards and this is my associate Bob Yeager," he said in introduction.

"Joe Cartwright," offering his full name before sitting down in the vacant chair.

"What brings you to these lonely parts then, Mr Cartwright?" Yeager asked casually, giving a quick unseen glance at his partner after finishing the question.

"Taking some horses to San Francisco tomorrow," Joe replied, not having any need or reason as to hide the reason for his journey. Most probably the two strangers had already heard the men talking about the trip and would have heard the horses arrive in the yard anyway.

"Well, I must say that makes for more interesting work than we are used to performing I am afraid," Edwards remarked.

"What line of business are you in?" Joe asked, out of courteousness rather than genuine interest.

"None at the moment Mr Cartwright, I am sad to say. Bob and myself are travelling west in search of work. Up until now we have been back east and had steady incomes but have fallen on hard times of late, if you know what I mean," Edwards explained.

There was no disguising what the men were driving at though. Joe had heard many men address the same areas with his father when they were subtly enquiring about jobs that might be around.

"Too bad I am headed in the wrong direction then," Joe said, hoping that they would take the hint that he didn't have any openings for either of them.

Before any more conversation could take place, a large scuffle from behind was breaking out between his men. Joe quickly got up to try and douse the situation before it got out of control. He could see from the redness of Douglas's face that the man had had way to much to drink and was now alcohol driven in his anger.

"Douglas, your drunk!" Joe said with an air of distain in his voice. "Get to bed and sober up." he added, not wanting to discuss the man's flagrant disregard for his orders in front of the others in the room.

"Don't you tell me what to do, Cartwright," Douglas slurred back, pointing a finger and lightly poking Joe in the chest. "I was doing this job long before your Daddy even let you ride your pony around the yard."

"Yeah, Little Joe, we don't need the likes of you telling us how to handle horses. We've been doing it a long time now," Nichols piped in, egged on by his friend's boldness.

By now Joe's temper had risen from nothing to new heights in the blink of an eye. Not only were the two men drunk so that they swayed on their feet, but they had the audacity to insult him to his face.

"I have had enough of the pair of you," Joe said, his voice deliberately lower and deeper than most others would have heard him use. This was a time when Joe could feel the anger almost take over him and it took all of his concentration not to let that happen now.

"What are you going to do about it, _Little Joe_?" Douglas taunted, over exaggerating his body language in a mocking tone towards Joe.

"You are both fired. Here's twenty dollars each for the two of you and that's even twice the amount of work you have done on this trip so far," Joe said, seething with frustration as he pulled out his wallet and handed over the notes.

"I don't want to see your two faces anywhere near the Ponderosa again."

In the back of the room, Edwards and Yeager both looked at each other, knowing that the perfect opportunity had just presented itself to them about how to keep tabs on Joe after he was ready to leave tomorrow.

"But you can't do that, how are you going to get those horses to San Francisco without us," Nichols whined, almost sorry he had gone along with Douglas now.

Joe knew that it was indeed a major problem at this point in time. He knew he still had two Ridge Riders that might be able to take over the leading of the horses for Douglas and Nichols, but that would leave them no scouts out wider against unforseen things along their trail.

Joe frowned slightly as he tried to come up with an answer while Douglas and Nichols still carried their smug faces. He didn't want to admit defeat to them just yet and let them come back into employment, but he also couldn't leave the horses where they were here or expect to get them to San Francisco on his own.

"Um, Mr Cartwright, may we be of service?" Edwards asked as he walked behind Joe and tapped him on the shoulder.

"What do you mean? Don't bug me right now I am trying to think," Joe said to the man, trying desperately to come up with a plausible solution. He had no way of knowing that Edwards and Yeager were offering.

"No, Mr Cartwright, you don't understand. From overhearing your conversation right now, I believe you are in need of some further hands to help with your horses," Edwards persisted.

Joe now turned to the man and began to understand what he was trying to say. He found himself looking both Edwards and Yeager up and down and wondering just how much experience in handling horses either of them had.

"You mean you…..," Joe said, leaving the sentence unfinished as the two men nodded their heads in acknowledgement of what he was thinking to himself.

"That's right, Joe, just like I said, Bob and myself are currently looking for work and you need two men to do the job," he said, making it plainer about his intentions.

Joe looked from the two relatively new strangers to Douglas and Nichols who were just as surprised as Joe himself to hear the offer of helping out. They doubted the two had any experience, but it did mean them losing their jobs.

Douglas had a look on his face that just infuriated Joe even more; _I dare you_ was all over his sweaty face knowing that the two newcomers would probably more of a hindrance to the journey rather than help.

"What riding experience to either of you have?" Joe asked plainly.

"We arrived here by stage, Mr Cartwright, but I assure you that both of us can ride horses very well, in fact we have been on such journeys as this before," Edwards lied. "The only question would be the acquiring of mounts for ourselves if we are to continue on with you."

"Oh I don't think that will be a problem, Mr Edwards," Joe said with a sly grin, looking directly at Douglas as he spoke, watching the smugness fall away and be replaced by anger of his own. "There are two horses stabled out in the barn that need riders. Mr Edwards, Mr Yeager, welcome aboard, you are both hired."

"But…. but you can't do that, Cartwright, what will we do for horses?" Nichols asked indignantly, knowing that Joe was intending to give the horse he had been riding up until now to one of the other men.

"Those horses belong to my father Ben Cartwright and the Ponderosa Nichols. At this point in time they belong to me and I choose who will ride them. You seem incapable of completing the job you were hired to do so the tools of the trade get handed to the next hand," Joe said as the harshness started creeping back into his voice.

By now, Douglas knew that Joe had meant what he said about being fired. His own anger began to match that of Joe's earlier, spurred on by the fact that he couldn't do anything about it right now in front of all these witnesses.

Douglas came within an inch of Joe's face and uttered an ominous warning.

"Next time we come across each other, you had better be ready, Cartwright, because I am going to be coming after you and there will be nobody else around to stop us. Just you and me," Douglas snarled.

"Any time your ready, Douglas," Joe spat reply, his voice again low and dangerous and his green eyes flashing with defiance.

For the next few seconds, everything in the room went silent as everyone watched the stand-off between the two. To their surprise though, the argument didn't escalate any further and Douglas seemed to back down some.

"Come on let's get out of here," Douglas growled to Nichols and the two men left the room, glancing back briefly at Joe.

Hank Sullivan was the first to break the tension in the room, "Well that all sounded a little nasty," he said in a cheerful voice, wiping the beads of nervous sweat from his forehead. At one point he was sure that he and his wife would be wiping somebody's blood off the floor that night.

"I have to thank you for your generosity, Joe," Edwards now piped up, trying to smooth things over a little and to make sure that the young man didn't draw any inferences that he and Yeager had anything on their minds but sincerity.

"Generosity nothing," Joe snapped, using up the last of his temper with the words. "I hired you two to work for me and I expect you to pull your weight tomorrow just like I did those two."

With that statement, Joe no longer felt like anybody else's company or more food or drink and retired to his room for the night.

With Joe now out of the room and out of ear-shot, Edwards and Yeager retired to the corner of the room where they had been previously sitting and talked to each other about what would be expected of them tomorrow from both Joe Cartwright and their employer Marchant Seline.

* * *

Joe was up early the next morning, knowing that a lot was demanded on him today both mentally and physically. Even though he had signed on two new hands to replaced Douglas and Nichols, he was under no misconception that Edwards and Yeager were anywhere near as skilled with leading horses.

Edwards and Yeager turned up on time like they were supposed to which was a good sign in itself. Joe had already informed the two Ridge Riders that they may be required to relieve the two new hands at some stage during the day if they were not coping or were having obvious difficulties.

Lillian Sullivan had given them some fresh food to take for later in the day for which Joe was grateful and most appreciative. He promptly paid the account for the over-night lodging of both men and horses. He thanked the couple for their hospitality and mounted Cochise ready to leave.

There was about an hours ride to Peak's Crossing. During the distance from the way station to the river, Joe made sure that he was at the back of the group, keeping an eye on everything in front of him.

At least the early morning was a little better to travel in so far. The sun had only just shone over the tops of the trees and was more of a nuisance at that angle than blazing hot yet. Joe found himself squinting against the harsh light reflecting off the approaching water.

To their credit Edwards and Yeager had managed to lead the horses up until this point. The animals were still a little skittish from breaking free a couple of nights ago, but the night in a corral had done much to calm them down.

There were a few times when the two men seemed more interested in looking back to see where Joe was rather than keep their eyes in front. Joe soon reprimanded each of them though, making sure that they understood the importance of keeping their eyes on the horses at all times when they were travelling.

Edwards seemed to adhere to Joe's words and there were no further distractions while they headed towards the crossing. He hoped it continued for the remainder of the trip to San Francisco. They were still a good six hours out and the sun would soon be well overhead and making the journey scorchingly hot once again before they reached their destination.

"Hold up a minute," Joe instructed the others, wanting to make sure of the water depth and strength of the current before allowing the others to cross.

The two Ridge Riders went ahead of Joe and waited on the other side in case they were needed to assist in helping the animals across. The water, though only about waist deep on the men, was moving and this was not the time or place to become lax or complacent.

Joe had dismounted from Cochise and lead his horse through the water, feeling both the temperature of the water and looking for any unseen obstacles underneath the surface that might impede their progress.

Joe reached the other side of the narrow river crossing without any difficulties, and while standing on the opposite bank with dripping wet trousers, gave a signal to Edwards and Yeager to start bringing their horses across very slowly.

Edwards and Yeager remained on their horses as they started heading into the water. It wasn't until they were a good two thirds of the way across that it was clear that something was wrong.

"What the hell are you doing stopping half way across?" Joe shouted at the two men.

It then struck Little Joe that they hadn't stopped at all, but rather the current was becoming too strong and making any progress almost unnoticeable.

The stronger the current, the more frightened the horses became to the point of almost wrestling the reins from Edwards hand on one occasion. It was when Joe saw that the men were coming dangerously close to losing their already tenuous control over the situation that he knew he had to enter the water himself.

Joe urged Cochise forward and even after the first few feet of water, knew why the other horses where getting so scared. Even on his own horse, Joe could feel the pressure of the water rushing against the pinto's flanks and legs.

It was only from sheer brute strength on Joe's part that he prevented his own horse from wanting to flee. Joe couldn't let this happen or Cochise would reel and he would be dumped into the water too, along side the flaying hooves of the startled animals.

Joe gripped the reins with both hands, not daring to try his usual one-handed riding abilities due to the swirling current. He tried to rub the horse's mane in a soothing action to calm Cochise down, hoping the same effect would flow onto the other animals.

By now, Yeager had lost hold of his horses and these were now quickly trying to move towards the opposite bank and scramble up the silted surface to safety. Being tied together, their fright was added to threefold with a great risk of injury in trying to bring them back under control.

Together, knowing that their own lives depended on their actions, Edwards and Yeager worked to get one line of horses across the remainder of the river. That left only one group in the water, which Joe was now pursuing a little further down stream.

Finally, Joe managed to get a hold of the horses and urge them up onto the river bank. He and the horses ended up some quarter of a mile down stream from the others, but it had been a tremendous struggle by the end.

Joe led the still skittish horses back to the others and allowed the animals to rest. He got down off Cochise and leant over slightly, resting his hands on his knees, trying to breath in a little deeper after such a physical encounter.

His shoulders ached painfully where he had to use all of his muscle power to stop the horses yanking themselves free again. The inside of his thighs were sore where he had to use them against Cochise's flanks to guide her through the water.

Upon looking at the saddle on his horse that needed straightening a little, he was loath to find that he had lost one of the bags carrying his good clothes in the river. There was very little if no chance of getting it back. Yet another set back in a trip that was quickly etching itself into Joe's memory as his worst.

There was no doubt that he would have to buy a whole new wardrobe once he reached San Francisco and for the mean time, because he only had one spare change in the bag that was still secured on Cochise, he would have to travel the rest of the way in the sodden and torn shirt and trousers he currently wore.

Joe was grateful for the fact that his favourite green jacket had survived the onslaught and was only in need of a thorough cleaning to remove the mud that now stained the fabric.

As if to add insult to injury, Joe placed a hand in his pocket, inspecting what was left of his clothes. He screwed up his face at the unwelcome feeling he had when he withdrew his hand and had a palm full of silt and dirt from the river.

"Come on, let's get going. I want to be in San Francisco today and I don't care if it is dark when we get there," he said in frustration, hurling the mud onto the ground and mounting his horse ready to resume their interrupted trip.

Thankfully for Joe, the fact that he and his clothes were so wet from the river, as were Edwards and Yeager, made the hot breeze that blew into their faces was made a little bearable.

* * *

After another six hours of riding against heat, flies and the still unco-operating horses, Joe had never saw a more pleasing site than the sign on the side of the road indicating that they had finally made it to San Francisco.

The sun was only an hour or so away from setting and Joe was so sore it almost hurt to think of having to move just to get down off the horse again. As his clothes had dried with the hot wind in his face, the mud seemed to act as a crude glue against his clothes, the fabric now dry and brittle to the touch.

The team's first stop of course was the army barracks to be free of the horses once and for all. A very tired and mud covered Joe rode into the yard and knocked on the door.

Edwards and Yeager remained on their horses, waiting for Joe's next set of instructions.

"Yes may I help you," a small man said answering the door. His look of distain and shock was hard to hide when he looked upon the bedraggled appearance of Joe.

For a brief instant, the man thought the group must be lost men seeking refuge and shelter. While he wasn't completely wrong in his assumption, the answer that Joe gave him was not what he had been expecting at all.

"My name is Joe Cartwright. I have some horses from the Ponderosa to deliver to your commanding officer, a Major Branson," Joe stated, his eyes beginning to ache dreadfully from the day's travel.

The man looked dubious and was about to send Joe on his way and berate the men for coming to the door with such a story when another man came to the door.

"Joe," the voice said in recognition, the major looking at the young man and noting his condition.

"Hi, Keith," Joe said, giving a half-smile as he spotted the raised eyebrow at his clothes and mud-streaked hair.

"Glad to see you made it in one piece Joe," Branson joked.

"Barely, but I got here. If you don't mind Keith, I would rather wait until tomorrow when my eyes are open to talk. I just want to get these horses into their corral and then go over to the hotel and have a bath and something to eat," Joe explained.

"Sure Joe, rough trip was it?" Branson commented, instructing two younger officers on guard duty in the yard to relieve Joe and his men of the horses. He then offered a cool bucket of water and cup to the trio, noting their parched and cracked lips from many hours of riding in the sun.

"You have no idea," Joe said with a flash of anger in his eyes, but with a look that told the Major there were plenty of stories to share the next day. Somehow from the look on Joe's face, Keith knew that things hadn't exactly gone as the young man would have liked.

"You go and get some well earned rest Joe, and I will meet you at the bank at ten o'clock tomorrow morning to organize for the funds to be deposited into the bank," Branson said.

"Thanks, Keith, I will see you. I don't suppose the telegraph office is open at this hour either?" Joe asked, a little hope in his voice.

Joe remembered his promise to his father of sending a message as soon as he reached San Francisco. Most likely the clerk would have to write it for Joe who couldn't even stop his hand from shaking at the moment from the fatigue that plagued him. But at least a message would be sent.

"Sorry Joe, but the telegraph office won't be open until tomorrow morning now," Branson replied.

"Oh well, I will just have to leave a few minutes earlier before I meet you at the bank tomorrow morning," Joe commented.

With this Joe now mounted back on Cochise, his posture portraying just how tired he was. He hoped that he had enough left to stay awake to reach the hotel and clean some of the dirt and grime off himself.

* * *

Yeager and Edwards travelled behind Joe in addition to the two Ridge Riders. They were just as tired as he and it showed to a greater degree due to them not being as trail worn or used to being on horseback for such an extended period of time.

With limited direction and even less light to be guided by, eventually Joe and his men found a livery stable not to far away from the _'Plaza Hotel'_. The hour was even later now and they were not quite sure that they could get their horses stabled at such short notice.

The two large doors to the stable were closed so Joe was forced to knock rather loudly, in the hope that somebody within would hear. After a third attempt, a young lad came to the door and opened it slightly, not wanting to allow access to anybody until he got a good look at them first.

Unfortunately for Joe and his men though, their sodden and muddy appearances were almost their downfall as the boy started closing the doors again, telling them to come back at a more decent hour.

"No wait, please," Joe said, trying to pry the door open with his hands before it closed. "We have just arrived in this city, our horses cannot go any further tonight and neither can we."

The boy looked Joe up and down, trying to work out how truthful his story was. He noted the mud-stained shirts and trousers and the worn, tired looks on their faces. But when he looked at Joe's bloodshot green eyes, there was an honesty mixed amidst the fatigue that told him to believe.

Joe smiled tiredly when the boy opened up the door and allowed them to lead their horses inside. "Thanks," he uttered.

"Will you be needing to leave them here just overnight?" the stable-boy enquired.

"Probably a little longer than that for them," Joe answered. "I am planning to stay a few days, maybe up to a week or longer. Depends on how I feel."

After he had said this, Joe paused and thought a moment, for maybe the first time during this trip, that he had actually not had to make a more definite decision.

_'Depends on how I feel'_ he repeated in his head.

It was kinda nice not to have his actions or days planned out in a schedule. He could wake up each day and wait until he was ready to decide what to do next.

"What are you doing?" the stable-boy asked as he watched Joe begin to take the saddle from Cochise, getting ready to rub him down before seeing to his own lodgings.

At first Joe thought it was an odd question until he looked back at the boy and realised that normally when someone pays to have his horse stabled, then this sort of task was included in the cost. He probably wasn't too used to having someone offer to do it as well as pay for the space.

"I am particular about who touches this horse and how well he is cared for," Joe offered, partly in apology but more in explanation. "I'll make you a deal, I will rub him down while you get me a clean bucket of water and some fresh oats and hay," he added in compromise.

"Nobody touches this horse unless I tell you in person," Joe said as he prepared to leave for the hotel.

"Don't worry I won't let anything happen to your horse," the boy said, knowing that Joe saw the horse as more than just a mode of transport. A member of his family.

He picked up the small leather bag that had survived _Peak's Crossing_ , eyeing is disdainfully at the amount of mud caked on the outside. Joe hoped that the remaining clothes inside had faired a little better and would still be wearable until he could replace them tomorrow.

* * *

By this time, Edwards and Yeager had already made their way over to the _'Plaza Hotel'_ and gotten their room keys. The Ridge Riders had followed suit so that only left Joe to take care of his own lodgings and needs for the evening.

Joe approached the hotel reception counter with a little in trepidation, a little self-conscience about how he looked in torn and muddy clothes in such a fine establishment.

There was an elderly gentleman serving patrons. When it came to Joe's turn, he gave the young man a similar look as that of the man back at the army barracks. He did note the torn clothes and the dirt that had been tracked across the floor upon entering.

There was a distinctive trail from the hotel's main doors all of the way to the reception desk where Joe stood now, giving him away as the offender in question.

"May I help you, Sir?" the man asked, using his well-trained manners, but almost choking at the idea of having to address such riff-raff with the title of _'_ _Sir_ _'_.

"Hello, my name is Joe Cartwright. I sent a wire about a week ago booking a room for a week. I don't exactly know how long I will be here yet," Joe said in introduction.

The man deliberately pulled his gaze away from Joe and took an extended amount of time to scroll his eyes down the list of reservations, sneaking in glances to see if Joe was becoming annoyed at the wait and delay.

Joe noted all of the man's attempts however, but brushed them aside without comment. He was too tired and too sore at the moment to be trying to start an argument. Maybe when he was cleaned up and a little rested Joe would feel like telling the fellow just what he thought. But not tonight.

"Yes, here it is, Mr Cartwright," the clerk finally responded. Inwardly he had taken a step back though at noticing the young man's name. He had known of Ben Cartwright and his reputation as a wealthy gentleman with many contacts and connections.

"A suite room for a week with the possibility of extending the period of occupation," the man said, using a more formal description to what Joe had already explained.

"I'll get a member of staff to carry your bags for you," the man stated, hiding the sarcastic notion as he looked at the muddy, sodden bag that Joe was currently holding onto.

"That won't be necessary, thank you," Joe said politely, forcing himself to ignore the man's attempts to bait him into hostility.

"Will there be anything else you require before morning?" the man asked, already knowing some of what was needed.

"Yes please. I would ask for a tub of hot water so I can try and clean some of this trail dust off me. Lots of soap if you have it and some towels too."

I don't suppose the restaurant is still open for meals?" Joe asked hopefully.

"I will have the bath drawn for you straight away but as far as meals go the best I can offer is a light meal in your own room. The chef has closed the kitchen for tonight," the clerk informed Joe.

"Thank you that would be fine. I don't think I have the energy to walk back downstairs to the restaurant anyway," Joe admitted with a tired smile.

"Here is your key, Mr Cartwright. If you misplace it or lose it, there are master keys available but there would be a small fee payable to replace it."

"Ms Winters," the clerk now called out, scanning the surrounding reception area.

Joe saw a small petite blond woman, dressed in a formal looking uniform approach the reception desk, looking firstly at the clerk who had called her and then briefly looking back in his direction. Her hair was blond and she had pale and sad looking blue eyes looking back at him.

"This is Mr Cartwright. He has acquired Suite Four for the week. When you arrive there, please see that he has anything he requires. Then ask for one of the hotel maids to draw a hot bath for him and provide him with towels and soap," the man instructed.

"Yes Sir, I will see to those things right away," the girl said in a responsible attitude.

"And after that Ms Winters, ask the kitchen to prepare…what is it you would like to eat, Mr Cartwright?" the clerk asked, changing the person he was talking to.

"Oh don't go to any great trouble, I doubt I will be awake to eat a whole meal anyway," Joe said truthfully. "Just a beef sandwich would be fine."

"A beef sandwich then," the clerk said, looking back at Bonnie to finish off his instructions.

"Goodnight to you, Mr Cartwright, I trust that you will enjoy your stay with us."

"Hopefully tomorrow will have a whole new outlook for us both," Joe said with a grin, knowing that he would certainly be better favoured in the man's opinions once he had a bath and had donned on clean clothes.

Although Joe knew he was tired. The full effect of just how fatigued he was didn't sink in until he reached the door to his suite and entered. He let the saddle bag fall off his shoulder and rest in one corner of the room, not wanting it to soil the luxurious carpet on the floor.

Joe put his hands over his eyes and attempted to rub the tiredness and soreness from them. He only ended up making them more red and itchy.

He was startled slightly by a knock on the door. When he answered, Joe was confronted with two men bearing a large metal bath tub. Standing aside to allow them access to his room, these two were followed by four men baring two buckets of water each.

Bonnie appeared at the door, bearing fresh linen and towels. She also had a few bottles of fragrant and aromatic oils. A few drops of each was sprinkled over the steaming water, infusing with the water vapour to make for a very relaxing atmosphere.

"I will bring your meal to you in the other room while you bathe, Mr Cartwright," the girl said politely before leaving the room.

Joe had smiled at her, noting that beyond the layers of make-up, a pair of warm eyes were looking back at him kindly. He made a mental note to try and talk to her a little more during his stay.

* * *

For the next half an hour, Joe went about settling himself in the hot water and trying to regain some image of his former self underneath the mud and grime. He had the bathroom door closed and didn't hear the faint click of the door handle in the front room, signalling somebody coming into his room unannounced.

While he had taken the bath, Yeager and Edwards together with Bonnie had assembled in another room in the hotel to rendezvous with another man…. Marchant Seline.

"Where is he now?" Seline asked Edwards. He had carefully orchestrated his disguised stay in the hotel so that he would not be recognized nor his presence alerted before he wished to do so.

"Taking a bath," Bonnie said simply, answering for Edwards.

"You two know what to do tomorrow morning?" Seline asked, knowing that it had taken painstakingly longer than he wanted to know what they respective roles were going to be.

Yeager and Edwards both nodded, knowing that Seline had a particular scenario planned out for Cartwright.

"Bonnie, you are about to return to his room are you not?" Seline enquired.

"Yes, to take him a meal he asked for," Bonnie answered, not feeling entirely comfortable in this man's presence. She had been paid handsomely to do a range of tasks but couldn't help but feel that there was something more than sinister about the man's interest in Joe Cartwright.

"I want you to sprinkle half a teaspoon of this powder into his drink while his back is turned," Seline instructed, reaching in his pocket and revealing a velvet black pouch.

Bonnie sniffed the contents, trying to recognize the substance, but there was no odour that she could detect straight away. "What is it?"

"Just a mild sedative to help Mr Cartwright drop off to sleep. I plan to use it on a more regular basis once we reach New Orleans but I need to be satisfied that even a small amount has no drastic effect on his health. I want the boy dead to torment Ben Cartwright, but I want to do it slowly and in my own time."

Bonnie reluctantly took the pouch, feeling like the room was suddenly becoming very over-crowded.

"I will do as you say," she said and went to leave before her face became too red from the guilt she was experiencing.

* * *

By the time Bonnie Winters stood at Joe's door with a spare master key in her hand, Joe was just getting out of the bath and drying himself. He dressed in his sole remaining night shirt and a robe that had been supplied by the hotel.

When Joe walked out into the front room, feeling a little more human now without the dirt and mud, Bonnie Winters was no where to be seen. Beside the bed was a meal trolley and a covered plate sitting on top with cutlery and a pot of coffee.

Nothing looked out of place or disturbed. Joe told himself that he had better enjoy the meal while the coffee remained hot because he couldn't be sure how much longer he was going to be able to keep awake.

Joe sat on the edge of the large bed and positioned the trolley cart in front of him so that he had a miniature table to eat from rather than use the more formal round dining table at the other end of the room.

As Joe took the first few bites from the sandwich, he looked about his new surroundings pleased with what he saw but not being able to hide the fact that there was something missing.

With himself being the only one in the room, there was nothing but silence to listen to. There was no laughter or friendly chatter that he was so used to at meal times back home. There was no race to reach each of the serving dishes before his brothers.

Somehow this was not exactly what he meant when he demanded that his family allow him to spend some time on his own. It wasn't how he had pictured the beginning of freedom at all.

_'Funny how you don't know what you'll miss until it's gone'_ Joe thought to himself.

The beef sandwich was now consumed and the coffee cup was almost drained.

A thought had started to form in Joe's mind about the next few days when he stopped almost in mid-sentence and fell back onto the bed.

Joe was sound asleep before he even realised what was happening. His legs were still positioned over the edge of the bed. His torso was sprawled across the still mostly undisturbed bed.

The front door to his suite opened again, revealing the small petite figure of Bonnie Winters sneaking into the room. She walked over to the bed and eyed the results of her deeds.

She could see that the young man had eaten his meal and that the coffee was almost gone. There was only half a teaspoon of the powder in the strong black brew, just like Seline had instructed.

Bonnie sat down on the edge of the bed briefly, knowing that it was doubtful any movement she made would be noted by the handsome young cowboy laying before her.

The young woman started to scrutinize him up more closely than she would have dared if he were awake. He noted the relaxed expression on his face. He was indeed very handsome and good looking. His features chiselled sharply for one so young but then the curls of his hair framed and softened his face.

Bonnie had not been able to take notice of what colour eyes he had back in the reception area and now that he was lost to sleep, she still didn't know. She wanted to peel back an eyelid and peer underneath, but thought that might disturb him, even with the drug in his system.

She was tempted to run her index figure over Joe's pale lips to see if they felt as soft as they looked. She refrained. Bonnie got up from the bed and pushed the trolley cart out of the way and towards the door, ready to take it with her when she left the room.

She gently took Joe's legs and eased them up onto the bed to make him more comfortable. Then lifting his head slightly, slipped a pillow under his curly head. His hair was still damp, but the curls were so soft through her fingers.

The young woman frowned slightly at seeing the bruising and scratches that marred the tanned skin of his back. Bonnie then walked around the other side of the bed and pulled the bed spread across and draped it over the young man's shoulders. Hard work had certainly done wonders for his physique she noted, feeling the bulge of smooth muscles.

Taking one last look at Joe, Bonnie brushed some of the fallen curls from his eyes with a gentle hand, smiling a little at the contented sigh that resulted as Joe snuggled down underneath the quilt into the soft pillow. Almost as if he was used to such a tender gesture.

* * *

Joe awoke to a knock at the door the next morning. He opened his eyes blearily at first, not having remembered going to sleep at all. His head felt incredibly heavy for some reason and it was proving difficult to form a coherent thought.

"Come in," Joe said autonomously, without really thinking about it. He now remembered that he was at the _'Plaza Hotel'_ in San Francisco. The sunlight streaming through the curtains told him that it was about nine o'clock in the morning.

The door opened at his invitation and Bonnie Winters came into the room, baring a trolley laden with a plate of breakfast and another pot of strong black coffee.

"Good Morning, Mr Cartwright, did you sleep well?" she asked casually. She noted that he had only just woken up and was somewhat confused about where he was.

"Thank you, strange thing is though that I don't even remember falling asleep. I woke up this morning on the bed but I can't recall actually going to bed," Joe replied.

"Probably from your long trip," Bonnie offered as a plausible explanation. "You did look pretty done in downstairs at the reception desk yesterday."

Joe nodded in agreement, not being able to think of anything else. "I don't remember ordering any breakfast either," he added, changing the topic of conversation and eyeing the trolley Bonnie had wheeled into his room.

"I took the liberty of ordering for you, Mr Cartwright, if that's alright. You didn't tell me what you liked or disliked, so I tried to give you a small selection of everything," Bonnie said, smiling sweetly at him.

"Thanks, I am quite hungry. I guess breakfast in the restaurant is well and truly over by now," Joe commented, lifting the cover off the plate and taking a look at what had been decided on for his breakfast. He had to laugh silently to himself as he noted this complete stranger seemed to know him better then either of them thought.

The contents of the plate were both enticing and appealing, all of it and his stomach growled as if to signal to him to more than just look at it.

"Will you be needing anything else this morning?" Bonnie asked innocently, but trying to remain vigilant about what course of events the young man had planned for himself.

"I really don't have any plans actually, except for buying some new clothes," Joe said, looking down at his night shirt and robe and remembering that he had to replace the clothes he had lost at _Peak's Crossing_.

"The first thing is to send a telegram to my family to tell them I have arrived and then make a stop at the bank. After that I really don't know what I am going to do," Joe admitted candidly. He had been far too tired last night to give any thought to where he might travel to or tour of today.

Bonnie smiled to herself as she made mental notes to give Edwards, Yeager and Seline about where they would come across Joe Cartwright during the morning. She knew that Seline wanted the abduction planned very carefully, without mistakes and without the interference of other witnesses.

"I will see you later then," Bonnie said politely and left as if to go about her duties.

"See you later," Joe responded, not reading anything other than courteousness in her questions. He started applying himself to his breakfast and thinking about what words he would write in the telegram to his family back at the Ponderosa.

* * *

About ten minutes before the ten o'clock hour, Joe locked the door to his suite after changing into his last remaining set of clothes and made his way down the stairs to the reception area.

"Good Morning," he greeted the clerk from the night before. The man looked up and seemed quite taken back from the transformation that had occurred seemingly overnight.

The man returned the greeting and looked back down at the paperwork in front of him. He would have to remember to ask for payment from the young man when he returned to the hotel. Normally there was the requirement of a small deposit upon arrival, but the man had wavered such a need when seeing Joe's tiredness and longing for rest.

Later that morning Joe would have to meet up with Edwards and Yeager and pay them out for their part in the trip as well as the other two riders. But first the telegram so he could put his father's mind at ease.

Then onto the bank to meet up with the army Major to secure the funds for the horses and withdraw enough out of his own account to buy some new clothes.

Joe walked out into the bright sunshine, pausing at the entrance and taking in the sights, sounds and smells that assaulted his senses. The street was quite empty at present, but the young man had noted that the hotel was not exactly in the centre of the city when he and the men had ridden in last night.

Little Joe was unaware of at least five sets of eyes carefully examining his every move at the moment. There was a sixth set of eyes on a higher floor of the hotel belonging to Bonnie Winters.

Joe started walking casually down the street towards the telegraph office. Taking in the odd displays in one or two of the store windows. Being in a more removed part of the city, there wasn't as many stores as Joe had imagined for the area.

He paused on the corner of a street and was about to cross to the other side when two men approached from the opposite direction. At first Joe thought nothing of it, but as they drew closer, he saw the gleam of two pistols pointing straight at him.

"What do you want?" Joe asked, his hand going to his holster, but stopping for a few seconds, mindful that he was standing in a public street in a major city. He was a long way from Virginia City.

"You don't need to be asking questions like that Cartwright, just back up into that alley a little," the first man said, gesturing the direction with his gun.

"Keep your hands where we can see them," the second man warned, threatening to shoot Joe if he withdrew his pistol in defence.

For the moment, Joe had very little option other than to comply with the men and turned slightly to walk down the alley. It was much darker than the street and it took a few seconds for Joe's eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight in the street to the shadows and darkness in front of him.

"How do you know my name?" Joe asked as he turned around to face his assailants.

"Because I told them what it was," came a voice from within the shadows. The man walked forward, not taking his eyes off Joe.

"And you are?" Joe said, his temper beginning to rise. He looked at the stranger addressing him, but couldn't immediately recognize him as somebody he had ever met before. It was a little unnerving to see the man's look towards him. Joe felt the man's undivided stare, as though this man had been watching him for a long time.

"My name for now is not required, Joseph Cartwright. It is enough for you to know that you are coming with me now," the stranger declared, using the two men standing either side of him to threaten Joe more.

"Hey, I don't know who you think you are but I am not going anywhere with any of you," Joe said angrily and chanced going for his pistol.

The next thing Joe felt was a sharp pain to the back of his head that drove him to his knees, causing him to lose the tight grip he had been holding his gun with. Joe reached back to the area where he was struck and brought it away with fresh blood staining his hand.

Joe looked up towards the stranger, with an almost confused look on his face as to why he had been attacked for no reason from behind. He tried to turn his head to see who had struck him and with what, but he could only make out two vague images behind him as his consciousness began to turn grey at the edges.

"I told you to get it right the first time," the stranger said to the man behind Joe with clenched teeth. "I want this to go smoothly," the man added menacingly.

Joe was about to call out for help from anybody that might have been passing by on the street, but the words never left his lips as he watched the stranger now raise his own pistol and hold it by the barrel, ready to use the butt end of the weapon.

" _Pa_ ," was the only word he managed to whisper at the sight of the weapon raised over his unprotected head. He tried to reach up with his arm in a defensive action, but the pain exploded in his head again with force.

He barely had time enough to comprehend that he had been struck a second time before he fell face first onto the hard dusty, dirty surface of the alley.

Seline bent down after holstering his gun and put two fingers to Joe's throat, wanting to assure himself that no permanent damage had been caused to the young man with the savage blows.

"See to it that he is loaded onto the boat without being seen. I want that doctor to be already aboard to examine him when I arrive. Make sure he has enough supplies he needs to last the journey to New Orleans," Seline said to one of the men.

"When he is taken aboard, I want him taken to the room I have prepared. Make sure his hands and feet are tied to prevent any escape attempts. I also want him gagged to keep him quiet for the trip. Nobody else is to know that he is there until we set sail." Seline ordered.

_'And now Ben Cartwright…..,_ _lets just see how much you are willing to endure to get your precious boy back'_ Seline thought to himself with a devilish grin of satisfaction. _'_ _But then again, maybe I just won't let you have him back at all.'_

* * *

At about the time that Joe had exited the hotel before being kidnapped by Seline, Ben Cartwright was in Virginia City taking care of some business at the bank.

He had not been paying particular attention to anything at that time. He suddenly jerked his head upwards at one point, thinking he had heard Joseph calling out to him.

'Pa!' came the echo in his head. The voice sounded so full of fear and pain. Uneasiness began to settle in the pit of Ben's stomach. Had he actually heard his son calling out to him for help?

" _Joseph!_ " Ben whispered to himself, as though calling back to the voice he had heard.

Adam and Hoss had just walked into the bank, not seeing their father's reaction to hearing Joe's cry of pain. They were both worried though about the disturbed look they saw so openly on Ben's face. Something was very wrong. They had heard Ben call out to their brother.

"Come on," Ben said, forgetting all about his errand at the bank.

"What's wrong, Pa?" Hoss asked in confusion and worry. He saw his father was upset about something but what he didn't know. The only thing he had heard said was Joe's name.

Adam looked at Hoss for an explanation as well, but saw his own concern mirrored on Hoss's face. He too had heard his father call out Joe's name. The worry he saw etched on his father's face was one he had seen many times when Joe was sick or injured.

_'_ _Why would he have it now though?'_ Adam asked himself with dread beginning to wash over him.

"Where are we going?" Hoss asked, trying to keep up with his father who was almost running.

It soon became clear enough that Ben was headed towards Sheriff Roy Coffee's office. Ben entered the door without knocking with enough force to let the wooden door slam against it's frame after Hoss.

Roy Coffee had just about jumped out of his skin, but knew from the look on his old friend's face that now was not a time for jokes or jibes about treating his office with a little more courtesy.

"What's wrong, Ben?" Roy asked, but looked at Adam and Hoss, hoping they would be able to tell him what had their father so worked up. He saw them both shrug their shoulders, indicating that they knew no more than he did.

"Did you get that telegram back from that way station about that stage coach from the other day?" Ben asked, leaning over Roy's desk. He had this fear beginning to settle inside him that somehow hearing Joe's voice and the mention of the stage coach and the stranger looking for his son a few nights ago was all connected.

"Yes I did, Ben, got it just this morning as a matter of fact. But it doesn't really have much to go on about that fellow if you are asking. Still doesn't give his name or anything," Roy said, still not entirely sure why Ben was so concerned all of a sudden.

"Read it to me, please," Ben asked, a pleading in his voice. His hands were grasping the edge of the table like a vice, as if the information he was about to hear would be too much to bear.

"Says, and I quote…..,Man got off three stops down the track. Didn't say where he was going. Bought horse privately and was last seen heading in a different direction. Destination unknown.

"That's all it says, Ben," Roy said, hoping the little information in the telegram would quell any fears his friend had. He was sadly mistaken though as he saw Ben's face grow a little paler if it were possible, a take on even more concern in his chocolate brown eyes.

"What's going on, Ben?" Roy asked, beginning to feel the aura of uneasiness settle around him.

"You are all going to think this is crazy and that I should be locked up. But when I was in the bank just now. I thought I heard Joe call out to me," Ben explained, looking at the faces of his two sons and the sheriff, trying to gauge if they believed his story or not.

"Heard Joe?" Hoss responded, "But that's impossible Pa," he added, stating the obvious.

"What did he say?" Adam asked, not really able to believe his father's words but something about the naked fear he saw on his father's face made him ask.

"He just called out to me, but, Adam, you didn't hear the pain or the fear in his voice. It sounded as if somebody was hurting him." Ben said, trying to compose himself a little.

Adam and Hoss both looked at each other and grew a little more worried themselves. They had always shared this unspoken secret between them, away from others, that there was a special bond between their brother Joe and his father.

To such an extent that they knew when each other was hurt or feeling bad. They had seen a few minor instances of it in the past when Joe was at home. But to think that Ben had heard Joe call out for help when he was such a great distance away, they couldn't put it into words.

Without saying another word, Ben started heading out the door, his two sons and the sheriff desperately trying to keep up with the running and the conversation. They now knew that Ben suspected Joe was hurt somewhere, just how he knew that they didn't understand.

* * *

Ben had raced to the International Hotel where Seline had stayed only a few weeks ago. He came to the reception desk and addressed the clerk that the family and Roy had spoken to a few nights ago.

"Can you show me the name of the man that was looking for Joe?" Ben asked quickly.

"Sure Mr Cartwright, it's here somewhere," the clerk said, turning to the book and using his finger to go down the list of earlier patrons.

"There we are, stayed in one of our finer rooms to he did," the clerk said, not really understanding why Mr Cartwright would still be interested in the man's name. He thought they had already cleared up that the fellow had left on a stage coach in the opposite direction to Joe.

If Roy, Adam and Hoss were worried about Ben before. Nothing could prepare them for the man's sudden loss of colour upon seeing the name written in the book.

Hoss thought his father was so pale that he would faint on the spot and moved to use a steadying hand it was necessary.

"Oh lord, what have I done!" Ben whispered out loud, meaning the statement more for himself than his sons. He knew that the man had deliberately put his real name on the book, somehow suspecting that it would be recognized at a later date.

"He planned this all along," Ben said to himself, trying to fathom out what his next course of action would be. There was no doubt in his mind now that Joseph was in danger.

"Who planned what, Ben?" Roy asked, trying to get to the bottom of what was causing his friend so much anguish.

"He's got him, I know he has," Ben said, grabbing a hold of Roy's shirt as if to emphasis the fear he had for his youngest son.

"Who has got who, Ben?" Roy said, tired of talking in riddles.

Ben silently handed the book to Hoss so he could see the name. Hoss read it out loud to the others but didn't recognize it, "Says Marchant Seline."

"I have heard that name before somewhere but I don't remember where?" Adam said as he pursed his lips together in thought, trying to work out where he had heard the man's name before.

"All of this time I thought Joseph was safe. The man has probably been watching Joe all along. Waiting for just the right time to strike when he knew there would be nobody to help him. He could have killed him at any time," Ben said, knowing full well what implications such a man would have for Joe's safety and well-being.

"Come on, Adam and Hoss," Ben declared, shifting his fear and replacing it with a new steely determination.

"Where are we going now?" Hoss said, still totally confused about the whole situation. His father thought that something had happened to his brother, that was the most he could work out.

"To San Francisco, to bring your brother back," Ben said with a fierceness in his eyes that Adam and Hoss were not exactly sure they had seen before.

"I thought we were going to let him have a holiday on his own. He is going to be cranky to learn that we have followed him after we promised not to, Pa," Adam said.

"What are we going to do when we get there?" Hoss asked.

Ben now headed out the door towards his horse at the hitching post, knowing that it was now a race against time to get to Joe and bring him back home safely.

"To settle an old score." was the ominous reply.

  
  


To be continued…..

  
Jules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes - okay – sorry this has taken such a long time to update – lots of things happening that have prevented my writing any quicker. There have been some additions and omissions from the original chapter. 
> 
> I should be updating again soon – but cannot guarantee that this schedule will be maintained. Jumping back to some other fandoms – and hope to be adding the newer Chapter two to the new version of False Witness.
> 
> Also – this chapter is quite long – sort of trying to make up for the delay but also to get to a certain point in the story – yeah I know – you all hate me for leaving it like that.
> 
> There are five new characters in this story so I will give you a brief outline of where they stand at the moment for the continuation of the story:
> 
> Two Ridge Riders – mentioned throughout this chapter without names – won't be mentioned to a great degree for the rest of the story – rode off into the sunset.  
> Nichols – had a role to play in this chapter but now that he is fired – but we will be seeing him again later.  
> Douglas – fired by Joe at the way station – but we will be seeing him at a critical points in the story – not employee of Seline.  
> Edwards and Yeager – will be seeing them earlier in the story than Douglas, will still be retaining those names although they will be playing different roles after this - Hired by Marchant Seline.  
> Bonnie Winters – hired by Marchant Seline and was seen in this chapter in a minor role – her presence will increase throughout the story – Hired by Marchant Seline.  
> Doctor Walters – comes into play in next chapter.
> 
> There are going to be a lot of things happening in the next chapter – hope you can be patient enough.  
> Ben and his boys will travel to San Francisco by stage coach – not taking their own horses.  
> As for Joe – well he is currently laying in the street waiting to be loaded into the belly of a ship – or soon will be.  
> Hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think of the story so far. Thank you for reading.
> 
> Jules


	3. Murder In San Francisco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stranger from Ben's past is about to come into the life of his youngest son, intending to tear down the close father/son relationship they share. In the process of being written with more complicated content and hopefully a better story. Third Chapter has now been edited, added to and posted. (July 2019)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: This story deals with Joe's wanting to be seen as grown up and able to make decisions on his own about his future. Understandably his family are a little concerned at how Joe plans to deal with his idea of responsibility.
> 
> Ben Cartwright has always taught his sons certain values that made them into the proud men they are today. Someone from Ben's past wanting to seek revenge plans to take all of those values and the special bond forged between Ben and Joe and tear them apart.
> 
> Somewhere in the beginning of my story I made the mistake of calling Joe's mother Marie Dubois – a reviewer advised me of this mistake and I thank her for that. However, to keep continuity with the story for what I have planned in the future I have kept Marie's name the same the whole way through. This will become a bit more apparent in future chapters where the use of Marie's name come at critical points.
> 
> Also, my portrayal of Marie's past and certainly that of Jean her first husband may not strictly be to canon. I apologize for that, most of the background I have provided is made up for the sake of this story. 
> 
> There are references to Jean, Inger and Clay, but minor ones and I hope they fit into the whole scheme of the story I am trying to tell.

**RIVERBOAT GAMBLER**

**By Jules  
**

**Chapter Three – Murder In San Francisco**

_and now the story turns another page and continues:_

  
The stagecoach travelling from Virginia City to San Francisco, would not depart until 6.00 o'clock the next morning. This would give Ben Cartwright and his two eldest boys a little time to prepare what they would need to take.

Adam and Hoss took care of the majority of the important details, like getting some meager supplies, talking to the head foreman and letting him know that the family would be absent for some time. Exactly how long they weren't able to gauge at this stage.

Hoss booked the stage for three passengers, but secretly hoped that nobody else would be travelling with them. For one, even with just the three of them, the trip would be tedious and cramped for space. Secondly, and most importantly, he knew that his father wasn't in a particularly good frame of mind and would prefer not to have any other company for their journey.

Adam knew that there were a lot of pieces to this puzzle that didn't seem to fit, or his father was the only one with any details that he had yet to share. It was going to be a very long time on the road to San Francisco, plenty time for him to brooch the subject and try and get what little information they would be allowed.

Ben's reaction back at the bank and the sheriff's office had been a surprising one, and possibly a worrying one for Adam and Hoss. To them their father was a strong person, more so than most other men they had ever encountered. But when it came to putting a finger on his weaknesses, there was only one that came to mind; a curly haired young man with emerald green eyes and named _Joseph_ _._

While they had waited for the last of the luggage to be secured on top of the stagecoach, Roy Coffee came personally to deliver an urgent telegram message to Ben. He was sure he was going to be able to reach them in time, so went as fast as he could.

"Ben! Ben Cartwright, I have an urgent telegram for you," Roy said, handing the message.

"It's from the Major Keith Brandon in San Francisco. The one Joe was supposed to deliver the horses to," Ben informed his sons as they waited to hear who the message was from. Maybe it was a clue they had been hoping to hear that would help find Joe.

Ben's face turned slightly grimmer though as he read the words on the page. Somehow this just confirmed what he already knew to be true. "He says that Joe arranged to meet him at the bank yesterday to make the deposit for the horses, but never showed up."

"Maybe Joe just got delayed a little, Pa," Adam said, trying to think of another explanation for his brother missing such an important meeting.

"Doesn't sound like short shanks though, Adam," Hoss said in his younger brother's defence. "He might be carefree sometimes around here, but not when it comes to them horses that he breaks. You know how he has been trying to prove himself to the rest of us when he set off on fulfilling that contract."

"Yes, your right, Hoss," Adam agreed, knowing what was being said to be true. "We should meet up with this Major Branson and talk to him as soon as we reach San Francisco."

"That's if he waits around that long," Ben said. "Branson says he didn't want to leave the money with the bank, but he is required to head back to his Fort posting at short notice," he added, giving what other few details there were in the telegram.

"We can worry about the money later, Pa. I just want to get there and find Joe safe and him ribbing us because we came chasing after him for no reason," Hoss said, trying to remain as positive about the whole situation. He knew in truth, that the money for the broken horses was the last thing on his father's mind at this point in time.

"If something has happened, Joe can take care of himself. We have seen him in a few scrapes before now and he always seems to come out on top," Adam commented.

"Roy, would you mind sending a reply to this telegram for me to this Major Branson, telling him that we should arrive before the end of the week. He might be able to shed some more light on Joe's movements after he arrived in San Francisco."

"Sure Ben, I will help out any way I can. While you are still on the stage, I will contact the local police constable there and see if he can try and find Joe," Roy offered.

"Come on, time is wasting," Ben said, hoping to get as started as soon as possible. They had a long way to go and even less time to get there in. Every minute counted and they couldn't afford to lose time. Every minute was one more away from finding Joe.

Adam and Hoss bid goodbye to the Sheriff as he headed back to his office to send the wire to the local police in San Francisco. With a snap of the reins and a cry from the driver, the stagecoach pulled out of Virginia City.

* * *

The journey to bring Joe back safely had begun, but all of the anger that Ben had felt towards Marchant Seline drained away, leaving only a great deal of worry behind.

Seline was one man that he had thought he wouldn't have to face again. Now, he couldn't help but hear Marie's warning from all those years ago, sounding in his ears that Marchant was someone to watch out for.

Ben sat on one side of the stage, Hoss and Adam, the other. To begin with there wasn't any conversation at all. Only concern for what might be happening to Joe while they were forced to take the long and arduous journey.

It almost tore Ben's nerves to shreds being forced to sit and do nothing when he suspected that Joe's life may be in danger. Seline was a manipulative man and would use all of Joe's resistance, will and spirit just to see his father broken. Joe was the victim, no doubt about that. Ben couldn't be sure though who else would have to pay a price.

Adam and Hoss made idle comments to each other about the route the stage would take over the next few days. Ben watched his two eldest son's, knowing that deep down inside they were trying to deal with the disappearance of their brother too.

Ben looked over at Adam and Hoss, his face portraying his inner most feelings. The patriarch of the Cartwright family seemed almost nervous, which usually was no ordinary feat. He looked across at his two son's and asked: "Do you really want to know?"

"Know what, Pa?" Hoss asked, not used to seeing this side of his father very often.

Adam was a little more astute than his younger brother sitting next to him, and asked a question of his own in return, "How much do you know about this Seline character?"

"I suppose it is better that I start at the beginning. We have a long trip, so we have the time. I am just not sure how much of the story you want to hear," Ben stated.

"We are not little boys anymore, Pa. You don't have to shelter us like you have always done," Adam said, seeing this was a subject that his father would have rather not discussed at all.

"The real beginning starts along before I even met Marie. Your mother, Inger had not long passed away Hoss. I guess I was still trying to find myself after losing her. You would have been a lot younger Adam, and Hoss you were too young to remember much of those times," Ben explained.

"We had just arrived on the Ponderosa and I was trying to immerse myself in the work around here to deal with my grief," he said, smiling wanly at Hoss. He had loved each of his wives, and wanted for his son's believe that their mothers had a special place in his heart. Their deaths had been shattering blows on every occasion and it had taken a long time to pick up the pieces and start over again.

"It wasn't until I saw how harshly my grief was affecting you two boys that I decided to take a break to New Orleans. There was no real reason for the trip, just to get away from my own guilt, and hopefully give you boys the attention that I had been denying you since Inger's death," Ben reminisced.

"Those were hard times, Pa," Adam reassured his father.

"Hard on us all, yes, but on you most of all I suspect." And he knew he spoke the truth. The Ponderosa had not been the sprawling cattle baron's pride that it was perhaps today. The house was still under construction and they were still trying to find their feet amongst the good citizens of Virginia City.

"One day as you know, I came across Joseph's mother Marie," Ben laughed as he recalled that memorable morning.

"You know she tried to accuse me of deliberately trying to get in her horse's way. Told me that I should have been looking where I was going instead of day-dreaming."

Adam and Hoss chuckled slightly, it sounded just like her son to them.

"I think I was day-dreaming. Her beautiful face took my breath away so completely that I couldn't even find the words to reply. I watched her ride away, but I knew I had to see her again."

"Finally I drew enough courage to get to know her better. Over a short period of time. She had just lost the death of her husband Jean and the supposed loss of her baby son."

"Clay?" Adam surmised. His mention of that name bringing up a whole host of mixed emotions. He was happy for Joe that he got to meet his long lost brother, but angry at Clay Stafford himself for the seeds of doubt, and hurt that he had unduly caused during his brief and untimely visit to the Ponderosa.

"Marie never did get to know that her son was alive. Something I know that hurt Joe deeply when he first met Clay. In the end their worlds were too far apart, even though they shared her as a mother," Ben responded.

"When did Seline come into the picture, Pa?" Hoss asked, feeling a little lost in the discussion. He had no intentions of interrupting his father's train of thought however. He would be patient for as long as it was necessary.

"Seline tried to stop Marie from seeing me right from the very beginning. He voiced his opinion to strongly. Marie came to me on occasions crying because of the vicious way he had slandered her reputation and our impending union."

"Marchant Seline was a business associate of Jean, Marie's husband. After Jean's death, he tried to push the bare friendship in another direction. One that Marie was not prepared to take. He was very domineering and tried to bend her way of thinking to his own," Ben told his two sons.

"I remember Marie's strong will and spirit well," Adam recalled fondly.

"He must have held something over her to try and get her to change her mind," he though logically.

"Marie couldn't prove it of course, but she truly believed that he had something to do with the death of Jean. There was never enough evidence and a proper motive couldn't be established. It was her say so against many others, including her family. They object to our marriage in addition to Seline," Ben continued.

' _I hope Little Joe doesn't get to hear any of this about his mother's background_ ' Hoss thought as he listened. He knew that anything to do with his mother was a sore point, and Joe would defend her regardless of the rumours and gossip.

"We both agreed that the best way to avoid him and all of the troubles was to leave New Orleans. Start afresh one might say. That's when I promised to bring her back to the Ponderosa. I told her she would be safe here."

"Seline even went so far as to try and talk her out of coming with me on the night before we were due to leave. Marie wouldn't ever tell me what transpired between them, or the exact words spoken. But I suspect it was along the lines of threats to hurt me or even so far as hurting the two of you if he could."

"Marie was scared of what he might do and it showed. At first there were letters coming to the Ponderosa, ones of bribery. He offered her a lavish lifestyle that she had become accustomed to in New Orleans. One that would see her rise up in social stature as well. At least that's what he wrote to her," Ben explained.

Adam and Hoss could tell that reliving these moments were very painful for their father.

"Then Marie fell pregnant with Joe. I don't know how Seline found out about it, but somehow he did. That's when the contents of the letters began to change. He no longer offered bribery, but threatened to hurt her and the unborn child, whom would become your younger brother Joseph."

"Doc Martin was always concerned for her health back then," Adam commented, grimacing a little as he was forced to remember some of the unkind words he had spoken to Marie.

In the beginning, Adam had seen Marie as a threat to what remained of his family, Hoss and their father. Being too young to understand himself, he wasn't quite sure if she her intentions to love his father were genuine. If only he had the luxury of knowing the background he was only beginning to learn now.

"There was a time not long after she started reserving those letters that she would scarcely leave the Ponderosa for fear that Seline might have been lurking in the shadows," Ben murmured.

"When she did venture into town, Marie would constantly be looking over her shoulder, making sure she wasn't being followed. That's how much of an impact Seline's threats had on her life and ours when she came to live in Virginia City."

"What I want to know is why now, Pa?" Hoss asked straight-forwardly.

"I mean, if what your saying is true and Marie was worried about him all those years back, even before short shanks was born."

"I know what you're trying to ask, son," Ben interjected. "I tried to ask myself the same thing since I saw Seline's name written in that hotel register yesterday. There must have been dozens of opportunities to get even with me or even with Marie before she passed away."

"Maybe that's just it though, Pa," Adam began to suggest.

"If this Seline fellow is as devious and vindictive as you say, then it would make more sense that he is trying to extract his revenge now. He obviously has been watching Joe for a quite a while. He must have been doing that just to gauge Little Joe's movements over the past few days."

"If I had to hasten a guess, Adam, I would say he has been doing it much longer than that. I would say he has probably being watching Joseph since he found out about Marie's pregnancy. In the beginning he may not have done it himself. He might have offered a few dollars to somebody locally to watch any one of us and report back to him," Ben voiced.

"What about them hands and ridge riders that Joe took alone with him? Even if Joe is missing, they must still be there somewhere. No doubt drinking their fill in some run down saloon after such a long, hard trek with the horses.

"Yes, Hoss, good thinking. We can ask at the hotel if any of the other men checked in there with Joseph. They might have seen something odd or someone else that might have been hanging around," Ben commended his larger son.

"We are going to work together on this, for Joe's sake. If Seline really has taken Joe, then we have to know everything about him to think of where he might take Little Joe. Also, he is probably not doing this alone. If Joe is missing, someone must have seen him at the hotel before or after he left Major Branson."

"Your right Adam, but if I am any judge of character, Seline will probably be hiding out at the moment, waiting until the right moment to make his move. We need to talk to this Major Branson first I think and then see the hotel staff where Joe was staying," Ben said, using what little knowledge he had of Seline.

The major problem was, that Ben and Marchant Seline only had a few brief encounters, and those were a long time ago. Most of the assumptions he had made today talking to Adam and Hoss, were based on what he had known a long time ago. He had learned some of the man's traits from Marie's experiences and from the hand-written letters that she had received.

"The good thing in our favour with this stage coach is that it follows the same route that Joe would have taken with the horses. Hopefully we will be able to talk to a few of the people at the stops and ask if they remember anything that happened along that part of the journey. Maybe one of them saw Seline turn up at a certain point," Adam said, trying to be as positive as he could under the circumstances.

If Joe was truly in trouble, then at the moment, they had very little information about his trip to San Francisco that might aid them in trying to find him. They now knew that this Seline could be somehow connected, but even that was a hunch by their father.

Adam secretly hoped that someone along the stage route had seen his brother and could shed any light as to his disappearance after he delivered the horses to Major Branson.

With the plans put into place about who they would speak to first about Joe upon arrival in San Francisco. There wasn't much to do now but sit back amidst the choking dust as the stage rattled its way to the first stop.

The heat was oppressive, making the journey even more uncomfortable and fuel Ben's sense of frustration even further. They had to find Joe he said to himself. They just had to.

* * *

While his family bumped along the rutted road by stage coach, Joe was being treated with a little more tenderness in San Francisco. Even though he was currently unaware of the administrations.

Seline's original plan of loading Joe onto a boat headed to New Orleans had become unstuck when the boat was not ready to sail on time. The man had grown angry at the person responsible, but was told that he would have to wait at least three days for the boat to be ready to sail.

Although not happy with the situation, there were very few other alternatives. He had to be assured that any passage they undertook would remain secret. To have Ben Cartwright to show at a most inopportune time would ruin everything.

The extra time delay should ensure that Joe could recover sufficiently from his head injury before their set sail.

After being brought in from the alley way, Joe had been secretly taken to another hotel, and hidden away in one of the larger suites rented by Seline.

The blow had knocked Joe senseless for quite a number of hours. Seline had already summoned a doctor to examine the young man and see that no permanent damage had been inflicted. The doctor had yet to arrive to make his diagnosis.

Joe had been laid on a single bed mattress, still dressed in the clothes he had put on back in his own room. The collar of his shirt was now stained brown with dried blood from the wound on his temple.

Little Joe had yet to stir at all since the alley way. Seline was getting a little concerned that perhaps the young man was more injured than they first thought. Though his plans involved the eventual death of Joseph Cartwright, at his hand. He didn't want the game he had so meticulously planned, to go astray this early.

Yeager and Edwards had carefully taken up position at a small table in the lobby of the hotel, sipping at coffee. They would be alerted to anyone entering the hotel, in this case Joe's family. They were also instructed to await the arrival of the doctor and told to show him promptly to the suite.

Bonnie had been left in charge of seeing to cleaning Joe up and making him more comfortable before the doctor arrived. Seline left the room and probably wouldn't be returning before the doctor came.

The young woman carried in a large basin, some strips of cloth and other medicinal essentials. A second trip brought water, some for drinking when he awoke. More in a bucket to bathe him.

The silence in the room was enjoyable. Bonnie found herself being able to stare at this handsome young man, without fear of being watched in return. Joe's eyes were closed. His lips slightly parted and soft breaths could be heard coming from them.

The lips were a little paler than they had been the night before when she tended him in his own room. She remembered how her fingertips had tingled at the thought of touching them softly.

Bonnie had promised herself a long time ago that life had dealt her too many bad cards over the years. She couldn't afford to let her emotions get the better of her or show openly on her face. The young man laying on the bed was no different than many others that she had seen over the years. Handsome perhaps, but her hardened heart forced her to believe that he would be no different.

The woman looked at the remains of Joe's tattered and dusty shirt, trying to decide how best to achieve cleaning him up. She started by undoing the buttons down the front of the shirt, pulling it open. Her fingers touched his leanly muscled chest briefly. She caught herself drifting away again and pulled herself back to the task at hand just as quickly.

The young man's arms were limp and unresponsive as she lifted the right and undid the cuff button, ready to withdraw his arm from the sleeve. As she did this, Joe uttered a slight moan, making her pause and keep her eyes focused on his face for any sign that he might be waking.

The moan was repeated a little louder when she took his left arm out of the sleeve. All that was left now was to lift him up slightly and remove it from underneath him. She was a strong young woman, and very gently, leaned forward as she sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the young man forward to her chest, lifting his shoulders from the bed.

Joe made a few more incoherent sounds, his warm breath tickling at the nape of her neck as his head lolled and drifted softly against her shoulder, his face turned towards her. She quickly took the shirt away and laid him back down again, carefully supporting his head with her hand until he reached the pillows again.

The curls against the palm of her hand were soft and silky. She hadn't felt hair so soft and luxurious on a cowboy before. She brushed a few stray strands out of his eyes, noting that they fell over his forehead in a manner that made him appear younger.

Her patient was now stripped to the waist, his feet still clad in socks, but the boots removed and laying on the floor. She rose from the edge of the bed and picked up corner of the quilt, draping it over him up to his chest. Although she had no desire to get to know him any better, she did what little she could to keep him comfortable.

Taking some of the warmed water from the bucket and pouring it into the basin on the bedside table, she dipped the corner of a strip of cloth into the tepid liquid, squeezing out the excess. She then jabbed every so lightly at the corners of his lips, noting that they appeared a little cracked and dehydrated.

Joe turned his face towards the soft touch, sighing a little and his eyes fluttering slightly, but not quite opening. Bonnie's heart skipped a beat as she thought he was about to awaken before she finished. Another part of her anxiously waited to see what colour his eyes were behind those closed lids. She had wondered the same thing the night before as he slept.

Refreshing the cloth, Bonnie turned her attention to the head wound, a little hesitant about doing anything until the doctor arrived. She chided herself though, knowing that she was only cleaning away a little dried blood. That wouldn't have any affect on the doctor's diagnosis.

She started at the base of his neck and collar-bone, where the blood had soaked through the linen shirt and dried in a smudge. Then slowly, replenishing the water on the cloth as necessary, she moved her way up his neck and down the side of his face. She took particular care around his ear lobe, noting how delicate and rounded they were.

Bonnie had been so intent on her administrations to Joe, that he failed to hear someone enter the room. There were two men standing in the doorway, watching the woman sponge the blood from the side of Joe's face with all the care of a mother.

"You do that real well, Bonnie," Seline commented, smiling as the woman startled at the sound of his voice. He always liked to have the upper hand when it came to women. For them to know that he was in control of the situation.

"I see our young man has still not awoken though," he added, walking over to the bed and surveying the efforts the young woman had made during his absence. It was then that Bonnie noted a second man, carrying a small black bag.

"Bonnie, this is Doctor Carl Wilson," Seline said in introduction. "The doctor has kindly agreed to using his services on our young patient here. Of course he will be totally discreet and keep no record of ever having treated Mr Cartwright."

Seline had been watching the Doctor more than Bonnie as he made this statement, wanting to be assured that the physician knew his role and what would be required of him. He had paid handsomely for the man's secrecy, but it was still to be seen if he would carry out all of his employer's requests.

"Miss Bonnie," the doctor said in greeting, holding out his hand to the young woman, his eyes immediately drifting to the intended patient lying unconscious on the bed. He could see she had successfully removed his shirt and cleaned some of the blood away. The doctor set his bag down on a nearby table in the room, preparing to take a closer look at the source of the bleeding.

"Has he shown any signs of regaining consciousness at all?" Wilson asked the girl as he lightly started to prod the swollen tissue around the injury.

"He moaned a couple of times and he looked like he might have been trying to open his eyes once. But he didn't. He didn't move anymore than that," Bonnie informed him, stepping away from the bed and making a little distance between herself and the young man.

"There is a little more swelling around the wound than I would normally like to see," Wilson commented as he drew even closer for an examination. "The wound has bled a little heavy too, but that's to be expected with head trauma."

Bonnie nodded her head in agreement, noting the slightly crimson tinge to the basin of now cold water. The cloth she had used also bore a few bronze blood stains on it.

"Will he recover?" Seline asked sharply, trying to act non-committal to the whole situation.

"Yes, I suspect so. Though he is probably going to have one powerful headache when he does finally awaken," Wilson replied. "You will need to keep a close eye on him if complications should begin to arise," the doctor warned.

"What sort of complications? Seline demanded, thinking that he had quite enough interruptions to his plans already without the additional ones an injured hostage might create.

"He may develop a fever, or the swelling may take considerably longer to go down than I anticipate," the doctor informed him coolly. "Head injuries are most unpredictable at any time and in this case, the young man has been struck with a blunt object, using force."

"I think you are just jumping to conclusions," Seline said sharply, thinking that the doctor was overstepping his boundaries. He knew full well how Joe Cartwright had been struck and how hard. It was he that delivered the second, necessary blow to render him unconscious.

"Hmph!" the doctor muttered under his breath as he gathered his black bag and prepared to leave the room. "I will be back in tomorrow to see how he is progressing unless you have need of my services sooner."

Just as he was about to close the door to the room, he made mention of one other thing that might have eluded Seline at this stage of the game.

"Regardless of whether there will be any complications or not, I suggest that he might become a bit more of a handful once he is awake. If you truly wish to keep him as a prisoner, you may need to revise method of restraint that will prevent his escape."

Doctor Wilson left the hotel thinking hard about the uncompromising position he found himself in at present. As he walked down the street, he tried to think back how all this secrecy had come about in the first place. He was a doctor, and playing with people's lives in his hands at the moment.

Carl Wilson could remember back to a time where he had a most reputable practice in San Francisco. He had many patients who regarded his advice highly and rewarded his unending medical knowledge with praise and financial profitability.

Over the last twelve months though, that reputation had been gradually eaten away, along with the funds in the bank. The patients stopped coming and his rather luxurious lifestyle was dealt a heavy blow. That is when he had been approached by Seline to help with his scheme concerning Joseph Cartwright.

Seline's money had been sizable and too much of a temptation not to take. All he had to do was supply some mild sedative to keep the young man quiet until his family came up with the intended ransom demand. That was what had been agreed upon initially and had been the only role which he carved out for himself.

Then he had one of Seline's men come to his door only a few hours ago, saying that the plan had gone astray and his skills were required because the young victim had been injured and was unconscious. He now regretted, more than ever his involvement in the entire plot. He inwardly kicked himself for going against the oath of office he had taken as a young medical student all for the promise of financial freedom. What price was he willing to put on the young man's life?

In the back of his mind, Wilson promised himself that upon the next examination of Joe Cartwright, he would deem his services no longer necessary and declare his part in this whole messy business over.

The doctor knew he would need to be careful though, for his sake as well as that of his unconscious patient. Seline would no doubt have somebody watching his every move. If he was going to help the young man, then he would have to do so discreetly and without being seen.

* * *

As the doctor left, Bonnie moved to go past Seline to replenish the water in the basin and complete her task of cleaning up Little Joe. The man barred her progress into the room with his arm, daring her to look directly at him as he spoke.

"I sincerely hope, for your sake, that taking care of him doesn't alter your feelings towards him," Seline warned in a low and deep tone. Bonnie wasn't to be fooled though and knew he meant the words as a threat rather than an idle comment.

"It doesn't," she returned forcibly. "He is just another good looking cowboy who needs to be cleaned up," she continued.

"So glad that you know where we stand. If would be most unfortunate for both, if you were to develop any sympathies for him. He is to be taken care of for now, until his family are within striking distance. I intend to see him suffer a painful death in front of his father, Ben Cartwright," Seline whispered coldly in her ear.

The mere feel of his closeness to her at the moment, wanting her to scream and retch. She knew better than to try and double-cross him or aid the young man in any way. Bonnie forced herself to hide her deep sense of loathing and hatred and ignore his attempts to threaten her.

On the outside, she knew she needed to show herself, calm, reserved and willing to obey his requests. On the inside, she had to remember why she took up his offer of money in the first place. The motive and incentive that drove her to betray who she really was and her longing for things to be the way they once had been before Marchant Seline entered her life.

Bonnie turned her attentions away from Seline back to the young cowboy she was paid to take care of. Seline continued to watch for a few more minutes, but then left, knowing that his words would be enough to keep her loyal and trustworthy until he had no further use for her.

She was once again alone with Joe Cartwright, once again taking up the cloth from the fresh basin of warm water and continuing her administrations. The young man began to moan a little and shift of the bed, indicating that he was coming back out of the foggy grey cloud that had held him unconscious for so long.

Bonnie was quite relieved that Joe was starting to come around. She moistened the cloth again and wiped it gently across his forehead to hasten the process. Joe began turning his head on the pillow and he tried to lift his arm off the bed.

"Pa…..," came the words from his lips, barely a whisper and laced with a grimace at the resulting throb in his head from the effort.

"Shhhh….," Bonnie cooed to him softly, continuing to use the cloth and allowing him to awake at his own pace. "It's alright Mr Cartwright, just open your eyes slowly now."

However, Joe heard himself being addressed as _Mr Cartwright a_ nd instantly knew that something wasn't right. His father certainly wouldn't address him that way. Now he came to thinking harder, even without opening his eyes, everything around him felt foreign.

The confusion began to show more openly on his face and Joe made an even greater effort to open his eyes to see where he was. The room's air smelt a little musty, as if the windows had been closed for a long time and the furnishings not given sufficient time to breathe. Instead, they retained a stagnate stench, once that made his stomach become nauseous .

"Mr Cartwright," Bonnie said, as she saw the emerald green eyes looking back at her pale blue ones. The young man's eyes were barely open, but showed a great deal of pain and were glazed with uncertainty and unfamiliarity.

"Who are you?" came the brief question through parched lips from Joe.

"Can you sit up for a moment and I will give you a drink of water," Bonnie said, ignoring the question and seeing the young man's need to drink rather than talk.

Joe didn't respond right away, finding it difficult to make his limbs obey his intentions because of the painful headache that was assaulting him at present. Grimacing and groaning loudly at the sharp pain that coursed through his skull, Joe finally managed to pull himself up on his elbows, but no further.

How he had become so weakened he couldn't rightly remember for a moment. But the more the headache plagued him, the more he began to think back and recall. He gratefully accepted the cup of water held at his mouth, drinking in large gulps at first, but a voice beside him commanding him to take it slower and in smaller amounts. His stomach also voiced it's strong protest, churning as the liquid ran down the back of his throat and settled uneasily.

Joe eventually turned his head away when the cup was half-empty, not trusting his voice to be able to convey that he had drunk enough. The nauseousness was becoming even harder to ignore and he wondered if the water would stay down.

Bonnie recognized that he had had his fill. She had wanted to see if he would take a small amount of the salted soup she had ordered from the hotel's kitchen. Upon seeing him blanche a few shades paler from the water in his stomach, she erred on the side of caution and deemed that food could wait a little longer.

Joe had his eyes closed at the moment as he tried to concentrate on the incessant pain in his head and the urge to throw up coming from his stomach. He opened them briefly and saw the face of a young woman. He recalled asking her something as he woke, but now, the pain had taken away any memory of what the question had been.

The young man was growing more and more confused as the minutes ticked by, but also the pain in his head made him feel increasingly restless. He had an urge to escape the closeness of the air in the room surrounding the bed. Bonnie had moved to put the cup back on the bed-side table, not realising that her patient had any thoughts of getting up.

Joe threw back the covers from the bed, barely acknowledging that they had been laying over his body. He swung his legs over to the side of the strange bed and went to use his arms as support to pulling himself into a standing position.

It had taken almost all of his strength to do this and his limbs were trembling terribly from the exertion. By now he had managed to put his feet upon the floor and had made it to a partially erect position when Bonnie looked over to gasp in alarm at what he was doing.

"Oh no, no, no," she said and hurried to the other side of the bed, just in time to grab a hold of his shoulders before he toppled over unceremoniously on his face.

"You can't be out of bed, Mr Cartwright. You have a nasty head wound and have only just opened your eyes. You certainly shouldn't be trying to get out of bed."

Bonnie found that as she spoke, her grip on the young man's shoulders needed to become tighter and tighter. Joe didn't speak and his face was dreadfully pale. His breathing sounded raspy and rather laboured. Joe had tried to raise his hands up to help support himself and pull the restraining arms from around him, but his arms fell back at his sides limply as the dizziness hit with staggering force.

"Oh…..," Joe gasped out loud as he felt the full impact of dizziness. The room seemed to be tilting on its side and he groped out aimlessly for something to hold onto to prevent himself collapsing.

"S-so ….d-dizzy…..," he mumbled, resting his head against Bonnie's upper arm.

Bonnie was trying to coax him into sitting back on the edge of the bed, when gravity took pity on Joe and made his legs fold underneath him. The small amount of strength he had since waking was almost spent. He tried to drag his heavy eyes up towards the person supporting him, but could not do so.

"Where am I," Joe tried to mouth as Bonnie pushed him back slowly onto the bed. That action was all that was need though to upset his already weakened stomach. His face took on a slightly greyish appearance and the young woman moved quickly to gather the half-filled basin of water from the bed-side table.

Bonnie barely had time to put in underneath his chin and rest the basin on his thighs, when Joe vomited the small amount of water in his stomach into the bowl. His body determined to drag out the punishment even further, continue to make him retch until he no longer had any contents in his stomach.

Seline chosen that particular moment to come into the room once more. He walked over to the bed and was dismayed at the appearance of his captive.

"Here, help me!" Bonnie shouted, forgetting for a moment that he was her employer. She thrust the basin of murky water at him as she tried to readjust her tenuous hold on Joe.

Seline didn't react to her curt order, instead placing the bowl on the table as she demanded, turning his face away from the revolting odour. He now helped her support the young man's upper body. Bonnie got off the edge of the bed, allowing Seline to help her lay Joe down across the covers.

Joe had tried to mutter something further, his eyes barely open to slits now, and having no more energy to even feel embarrassed at his current condition among total strangers. Bonnie and Seline felt the young man sag in their grip and loose consciousness, his head lolling to the side and his face slackening.

"Make sure he is on his side; if he is sick again, at least he won't choke," Bonnie informed to Seline. The man nodded his agreement and they adjusted the position of Joe's upper torso and legs so that he was laying on his side.

"He is a little more under the weather than I perhaps anticipated," Seline commented out loud, contemplating what would happen if they were forced to nurse the young man longer than he had planned.

"Nauseousness is very common with head injuries," Bonnie informed him, hoping he would only be interested in her comments for their medical basis. "He was somewhat dizzy, but that and the vomiting are usual and easily treatable should they occur."

"I trust your judgment until the doctor returns tomorrow, Bonnie," Seline remarked. "I will leave him in your capable care until then. Let me know if you have need of anything to aid in his recovery. We must still try and hold to our original plan. Straying too far from it now could be dangerous for both you and I as well as Joseph Cartwright."

"Thank you, but I believe if we simply allow him to sleep, his body will be much more healed by morning," Bonnie stated. The young woman now made to change the basin of water and gather a fresh supply of linens for the room should they be required later. She left Seline alone with Joe while she carried out such tasks.

Seline heard the click of the front door of the hotel room, knowing that the woman had gone to get more water and such. He now looked down at the young man, asleep before him. This was his first real opportunity away from others that he was able to gaze at him and ponder what could have been.

The young man's build was slight, just like Marie's had been. He had a well-muscled torso and chest, bronzed by the sun and hardened from many hard days ranch work.

Seline only saw that as another insult thrown in his face by Ben Cartwright.

In his world, Marie and her children would never had had to work so hard to earn their living. Everything they could have ever desired or wanted of a material nature could have been provided. He had the money to do and the power and resources to demand anything.

Joe's hair was the same colour as Marie's, falling in soft curls about his ears and forehead, just like he remembered hers doing. He could recall a few occasions when his fingers had ached to merely brush them back from her pretty face. Had he done so, no doubt, there would have been a scowl of disapproval from her emerald green eyes to match.

He had promised her the world, many times over. And yet she shunned him, ignoring his words that she should seek a better life away from that promised with Ben Cartwright. Marie had told him that they could never be more than friends, even though he had tried to convince her many times of that not being true. Especially after Jean's death.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Seline could see the accusing words from Marie that he had somehow been involved in Jean's premature demise. Although he had wished on many occasions that he be her husband and not Jean, that was a death that he could not confess to. He had been nowhere near Jean on the night of his death.

Seline brought himself back to reality and forced himself to remember the reason for which he had kidnapped Joseph. He wanted Ben Cartwright to pay for all those days of suffering that he had endured when Marie had left. He would make Ben pay a very dear price indeed for taking away the woman he claimed to love.

Seline stormed from the room, just as Bonnie was re-entering it. The young woman wondered what had caused him to seem so angry all of a sudden, considering the only other person in the room was sleeping from exhaustion.

Joe's condition seemed no worse from when she had left the room. Joe was still turned on his side; his colour had improved a little, his face no longer holding onto the earlier greyish complexion.

Bonnie pulled up the covers and draped them loosely about his shoulders, knowing she still needed to be vigilant for any further problems for the rest of the day. As she took up a observation point in a wooden chair beside the bed to watch over Joe, she began to wonder who this young man really was.

She had heard him call out to his _Pa_ in his incoherent mutterings, but who was this family that he searched for in his moment of need? Were they looking for him, wondering what had happened to him? Surely someone had begun missing him already and started a search for him. Where were they now?

* * *

Back on the stage coach, the group of weary travellers had stopped for their second night. Ben had lost all interest in the surrounding landscape. He had barely spoken a word since telling Adam and Hoss of his previous dealings with Marchant Seline.

Adam and Hoss had forced their father to join them in a much needed hot meal that night, noting that Ben had rarely eaten anything whilst the coach was moving.

Tonight was not all that much better, the plate before their father, laden with a thick, meaty stew. It was rich and hot, leaving a content feeling on the inside of Hoss's stomach after a miserable day of travelling.

Adam had not had much appetite than his father. For the sake of concentrating on finding Joe and knowing there would be a time in the not too distant future that he would sorely be needed, that he ate as required, not really tasting any of it as it went down with a small bread roll and some water.

Ben's plate was barely touched, aimlessly he used his fork to drift above the gravy, in and around the peas and potatoes. His thoughts were miles away from their current location, wondering if his son was being afforded the luxury of eating tonight.

"Looks like someone else we know, doesn't he, Hoss," Adam jibed at his younger brother. He had seen another family member do much the same motions with his meals when he was worried about something or trying to hide his feelings at the dinner table.

Ben's attention was brought back to the small way-station, noting from the amused expression on Adam's face that he was the current topic of discussion. He smiled apologetically, knowing he was not much company for either of his sons this night.

"What were you saying Adam?" Ben asked politely, not having heard any of the comment. His demeanour told a story of not being interested in anything that was going on around him.

"He was saying that you look like someone else we know when you are worried or concerned about something at the dinner table," Hoss informed his father.

What Adam and Ben didn't know was that apart from the stew being delicious and warming to the stomach, it was also a source of comfort to cure his own concerns about his missing younger brother.

"Oh, and who would that be, young man?" Ben said matter-of-factly, a shadow of a smile gracing his lips.

He knew exactly who his two sons were talking about and what they were trying to say in encouragement. He had noticed Joseph doing just what he had been doing moments ago on many occasions when he didn't want to talk or share his feelings. _'Like father, like son'_ he thought inwardly to himself with pride and a touch of sadness.

"Don't worry, Pa, we will find him," Hoss said, knowing that his words held an empty meaning right about now. His own smile faded as the three of them lost themselves in thought about where their son and brother could while they sat around the table comparing his personal traits and behaviours.

"I know son, I know," Ben said, reaching over and giving Hoss's large hand an awkward squeeze for reassurance.

"Tomorrow is a new day and one closer to Joe. We should be at one of the last way-stations before San Francisco. Maybe someone saw him and the other men travel by with the horses and might be able to provide us with some further clues or leads," he added hopefully.

The night came and went quickly at the way-station, making way for another long torturous day by stagecoach to the next stop. It was barely sun-rise when the three weary passengers climbed back into the coach and covered their eyes and faces with their hands and hats as the horses headed out once more on the dusty trail.

* * *

Ben and his boys had been travelling on the stage coach for a good three hours, before Joe had begun stirring in the hotel room where he was forcibly being held.

Bonnie had been by herself again for most of the morning so far. Seline had come by very early, but the woman had nothing unusual to report, telling the man that Joe had slept undisturbed most of the night. Joe had woken on two occasions for a drink of water, but had scarcely recognized his surroundings and gave no indication that he was any the wiser of what had befallen him.

Thankfully, he had had no further bouts of sickness. Long enough for him to accept some soup being spooned to him. Joe enjoyed the salty taste, though he baulked at any more than a quarter of what was offered, still a little afraid that he would bring it back up again.

As he ate the soup and looked back at Bonnie, despite the headache that was still present, Joe found his thoughts a little more coherent today and he began to analyse his lodgings and ask himself who these strangers were.

Joe had gingerly reached up and inspected the area on his temple that bore the wound, wincing a little as the swelling was still present and a touch to the bruising reigniting the pain. Joe inwardly asked himself his name and was pleased that he seemed able to answer. He knew himself to be Joseph Cartwright. There were a few other areas that were currently a little hazy, like why he was in a strange hotel and how he had gotten there.

"Who are you?" Joe asked, a little more understanding of the question today than when he had first asked.

"My name is Bonnie, that is all you ever need no," she snapped, a little more harshly then she would have liked. She tried to cover her mistake by getting off the bed hurriedly and clearing away the breakfast dishes.

"Sorry if I offended you, but I need to know why I am here and how I got here in the first place," Joe commented. The conversation was halted from proceeding further when the front door came open and Seline proudly strode in.

"You don't need to know any more that I decide to tell you, Mr Cartwright," Seline said sternly. Edwards and Yeager were not far behind him, ready to do their employer's bidding.

Joe's eyebrows quirked together as his brain tried to recall who this man was. He seemed to remember Seline's face leaning over him, but couldn't place where for a moment. His head was still aching fiercely, and he opened his mouth to protest when the memory came back to him.

Joe remembered the pain as he had been struck from behind and then saw in his mind, the second blow to begin descending towards his head.

"You!" Joe declared hotly, as he tried to wrench free from the covers on the bed.

"You were hired by me!" Joe shouted at Edwards and Yeager, pointing an accusing finger at each of them, recognising them from the horse drive. Before Joe could take more than a step from the bed towards them, Edwards and Yeager had grabbed one of his arms each in order to subdue him with a curt nod from Seline.

"Let me go!" Joe yelled, only to have Edwards strike him hard across the face to hold his tongue.

"Get off me," he roared again, angry at having been deceived and restrained.

What he didn't like to admit is the dizziness that had begun to plague him from such sudden and vigorous movement. His body was still not co-operating as he would like and the strike to his face had almost sent him reeling back onto the bed behind him.

Another desperate effort to release the vice like grip on his arms and Joe found himself dashing towards the door, roughly shoving Seline and Bonnie out of the way as he tried to stumble his way to the door.

Joe's gait was anything less than graceful, reaching out to grab a hold of any furniture nearby to keep from losing his footing. His balance was unsteady and his legs were beginning to feel like lead weights already, even after only a few steps towards the door.

"Get him!" Seline roared, as he picked himself up off the floor. He man was beyond mad and aimed to make Joe Cartwright pay for that most grave mistake.

Yeager made a flying leap and tackled Joe around the ankles, bringing him crashing to the hard wooden floor. Joe almost blacked out as his head made contact with the floor, making his headache grow to new heights of pain and giddiness.

Joe shook his head, trying to clear the rapidly descending cloud. He raked his fingers along the floor as Yeager began pulling him back by his legs. Despite his best, but futile attempts at struggling, Yeager soon managed to grasp both of Joe's arms and pin him down.

Yeager was straddling Little Joe, sitting on his legs, making any further attempts to rise and escape out of the question. Joe didn't think he had the strength to even lift his head right now.

Seline walked over to where Joe was laying on the floor, determined to give the young man a good swift hard kick in the ribs to consider what he had just done. He forced himself to hold back, knowing that any further inflicted punishment at this stage might prove fatal to the young man.

Instead, Seline walked over to Little Joe and took a good handful of curly hair and pulled his head upwards for emphasis. "I own you, Cartwright. Don't you forget it!"

"You don't get to do anything without my say so," Seline continued, occasionally shaking Joe head to see if he was hearing his harsh words. Even if Joe was hearing the words, he couldn't be sure if he was comprehending their meaning. Joe's eyes were glazed over in pain and barely open.

It wasn't but a few minutes later as Seline continued barking his list of rules at Joe that the young man lost the tenuous hold he had on consciousness. Grateful to be able to fall away and drown in the darkness away from light and pain.

"Get him back on that bed over there," Seline said to Yeager and Edwards.

"Make sure you tie him up this time. He will probably be just as un-cooperative when he wakes. I want to check on the arrangements for the boat before the doctor comes."

Seline chose this moment to leave the room and leave Joe in the hands of the others in the room.

Bonnie forced herself to turn away from the rough treatment Joe was forced to endure. The two men dragged his inert form up onto the mattress, not being too mindful of any injuries he might have already sustained. Edwards took a long length of thin, but strong twine and cut it in half with a pocket knife. He handed the second piece to Yeager, standing on the other side of the bed.

Edwards and Yeager now secured Joe's limp wrists together, being a little more lenient in leaving them bound in front of him instead of behind his back or to the bed's head-board.

Yeager now pulled out a checkered handkerchief and moved towards the unconscious Joe, ready to secure it around his mouth. They couldn't take any risks about him being able to call out for help or inform someone else in the hotel of his captivity in the room.

Bonnie looked at the restrained and gagged form of Joe Cartwright with a heavy feeling within her. Somehow she already knew that the young man was going to be much more difficult to handle once he came awake again. The sooner they left here for Sacramento the better.

* * *

Two more long torturous days in the stage coach, choking on dust saw Ben and his two eldest son's approaching a small building. This was to be their last stop for the day and the last one before arriving in San Francisco sometime late tomorrow.

The sign above the doorway read: _'_ _Peaks Crossing'_

"Seems to be a well maintained little place, don't it, Pa?" Hoss commented as he looked around at the corrals and a small barn. The area was clean and well looked after.

"Hank Sullivan is my name folks," a man introduced himself.

"If you will be so kind as to follow my wife Lillian into the homestead, she can show you to your room for the night and then rustle you up a nice hot meal after your long trip."

Ben nodded his thanks, too weary at this point in time to introduce himself or his sons. They would do so once they reached the dining room and the meal. They wanted the luxury of having some soap and water to clean themselves first and remove some of the smell of the trip from their clothes.

Roughly forty minutes later, Adam and Hoss, followed by their father walked into the dining room where Lillian Sullivan greeted them warmly and with a smile. She beckoned each of them to come forward and join together at the well laden table she had prepared.

"It's not very much gentleman, but like I tell all my travellers, it is nice and hot and there is plenty of it," she said in introduction. "I am sorry, I don't seem to know your names yet."

"I apologize Miss Sullivan, my name is Hoss, this is my older brother Adam and this is my father, Ben Cartwright." Hoss felt comfortable in the small homestead and found himself making the address when normally his father would have completed such introductions.

"Cartwright?" Lillian Sullivan repeated, pausing a moment as she seemed to remember the name recently having crossed her path. _'Cartwright?'_ she said to herself again, drawing her brows together in a questioning glance. Her husband noted her expression and came over to the group, wondering what his wife was having trouble in recalling.

"Everything all right, Lil'?" Hank asked innocently, placing a reassuring arm on his wife's shoulders.

"Oh nothing to be concerned about Hank, this gentlemen just introduced themselves as Cartwright's. I thought that named sounded familiar for some reason," Lil said with no ill felt towards the three men.

"Wasn't that the name of that young cowboy who came through here about a week ago? He had all those horses with him and those fellows," Hank said, thinking back to that time.

"Oh that's right, nice young fellow too. Very handsome I must say, even if he didn't take to liking you right away after the comment you made," Lillian poked in fun.

Ben definitely gained more interest in the conversation at this point. He was bursting to ask all of the questions that their generalised remarks had caused.

"Please, my name is Benjamin Cartwright as you have heard. We desperately need to know more about this young man that you are talking about. I think he might be my son, Joseph."

"Yeah, Joe, that was his name," Hank agreed, seeing the worry and concern on the silver-haired man's face.

"How about we sit down and you can ask anything you like," he now suggested, thinking that talking in the middle of the dining room like they were might draw undue attention from other patrons.

Ben didn't want to delay anymore than they had to, but saw sense in Hank's words and did as he bid, all five of them sitting down to talk over the piping hot plates of stew, bread rolls and jugs of beer.

"If you don't mind Lillian and I learning more about your family, Mr Cartwright," Hank began.

"Like I said, about a week ago, a young man came through here, with a team of horses he was leading with a few other men. We didn't talk to all of them, just the young man himself and the other two hands he brought in here with him, Douglas and Nichols."

"Joseph is my youngest son," Ben explained. "He has a curly head of hair and green eyes. A couple of days ago, we had suspicions that something unto ought might have happened to him after he left here and reached San Francisco."

"What sort of suspicions, Mr Cartwright?" Lil asked, seeing how distressed this man seemed to be in the belief that his youngest son was in trouble. Something in her heart went out to him. She wanted to help in any way they could.

"Please call me Ben. It's rather difficult to explain how I come to know that something has happened to Joseph. Let's just say that someone I knew a long time ago showed up at an opportune moment. He has certain past issues with myself and my late wife, Marie." Ben said, knowing how strange it sounded that his hunches were based more on gut feelings rather than actual proof.

"My brother and father share a bond that is special," Adam said, weighing into the conversation.

"But apart from that, on the day we left on the stage, the local Sheriff brought a telegram to us from the man Joe was supposed to meet in San Francisco. Joe was to arrange for the money for the horses to be deposited into a bank account."

"That telegram confirmed our deep seeded fears that something had happened to Joe," Hoss stated. "My brother just wouldn't miss something important like that unless something bad had happened to him."

"Oh, Mr Cartwright, I mean Ben, I just don't know what to say. The whole situation seems so awful. I would hate to think anything had happened to that nice young man. Especially after all of the trouble he had here that night, before he even left for San Francisco," Lillian said in sympathy.

"Joe had trouble here too?" Hoss said, seeing the question already on Ben's face. This admission only added to their concerns and fears even more. Had the trouble or conspiracy against Joe started before he even reached San Francisco. It was certainly plausible considering the telegram they had received about Seline's sudden disappearance off the stage after it left Virginia City.

"Those two fellas he was with, what were their names?" Hank asked, briefly interrupting his train of thought.

"Douglas and Nichols," Adam stated matter-of-factly, his features turning a little darker at the thought that these two men had had any hand in his brother's probable disappearance.

'Yeah, that's them. They came in here that night and there was a disturbance and argument about how much they were supposed to drink and what they were to drink. There seemed to be some major animosity between them even before that night, but I never did ask," Hank continued.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me one bit," Ben said grimly. "There was an air of jealousy and contempt on Mark Douglas's part that he had to follow Joe's orders. That was apparent even before they left the ranch. Nichols just followed whatever Douglas did."

"Yeah, and I guess I didn't help things along either Ben, when you son first turned up here. I addressed one of the other men, that Douglas character I think and thought he was the one in charge. Your son just looked a little on the young side, I am sorry about that. Joe didn't seem to take offence for very long, once I apologized and he explained the situation," Hank murmured regretfully.

"What happened over the drinking Hank?" Hoss asked, wanting to continue on.

"Joe told the men that they were only to consume beer that night and to keep it to a few at the most. Said they had a long trip the next day to San Francisco and they would need to be up just that little bit earlier too to make it by sunset," Hank answered.

"Sounds like Joe's way of operation on a drive," Adam commented. "His methods might sound a little unorthodox, but he likes the men to keep sober and their minds on the drive. He lets them get away with a few indiscretions, like a beer or two but he won't let them drink anything stronger until the drive is finished."

"That Douglas fellow, got a might bit hot under the collar. He tried to front up to your son and was threatening to take him outside and get physical," Sullivan said trying not to miss any details out that might help in the search for the missing young man.

"Did Joe retaliate?" Ben asked plainly, knowing that his son's temper was sometimes he downfall when pushed over the limit. Especially when other factors were involved, like tiredness and the stress of the long drive and the journey they still had to make the next day.

Matters back at home where no doubt weighing on Joe's mind as well during the drive. The issues that he and Joe had talked about and his demands to wanting some space to find himself.

"No, not by punching him. He got a little angry, for sure. But he handled it a little differently, and I'd say he made that Douglas fellow red as a beet by just his words. Douglas looked as mad as a bull when he left here. Threatened your son, too. Said that he and Joe would meet up again some other time and that the tables would be turned," Hank said in praise and trepidation of what the young man might have been getting himself into that night.

"What did Joe do?" Hoss asked, thinking the conversation was going all around without really coming to a point that proved useful in finding him safe.

"Joe fired them. Plain and simple. Told them that they didn't work for him anymore," Hank replied.

"Well, that would have been the correct thing to do, but under the circumstances that would have left him a little short handed for the drive," Ben commented. He was proud of the way Joe had handled the situation, knowing that he would have done exactly the same thing. Joe seemed to be making all the right decisions without any interference or suggestion from his family.

"Yes it would have, but that's when those two other men came into the picture," Hank said, then realising that he had completely forgotten to mention Yeager and Edwards at all.

"What other two men?" the Cartwrights asked in unison, a little dismayed that Sullivan had left out such an important piece of information.

"When Joe first came into the dining room table, there were two men already sitting at a table. They seemed to be keeping pretty good tabs on him since he arrived. Joe got a little edgy over it and a little uneasy with them watching him without a reason. He went over and confronted them, though they didn't admit to what they were doing," Sullivan explained.

"They struck up a conversation as it was and Joe seemed to relax a little and they were talking along fine. They introduced themselves and that's when he noticed the trouble starting to brew with Douglas and the other man," Hank continued.

"And how do these two men come into the picture after Joe fired Douglas and Nichols?" Ben asked cautiously, already not liking where this conversation was headed.

There were too many people coming into this situation that didn't belong or whose motives were unknown. If these two strangers were indeed watching Joe like Sullivan suggested; why and what was their involvement with Joe's disappearance in San Francisco if there was any inference to be drawn at all?

"Well, that's where Joe found he had the luxury to fire those two men. Douglas was already scoffing at him that Joe wouldn't be able to take the horses all the way to San Francisco without him and Nichols," Sullivan told Ben.

"Joe offered the jobs to these other two men. Both of them admitted that they had some minimal riding experience, so Joe reshuffled the order a bit and put a couple of the other riders in where Douglas and his partner had been and put these other two men in the other two new vacant positions. They wouldn't have been as good I suppose, but your son seemed satisfied that he would be able to complete the trip," Hank said surmising at the reasons behind Joe's actions.

"What else can you tell us Mr Sullivan, though you have already told us a great deal? There are a lot more questions to be asked, and it sounds like Joe had some mighty big trouble before he even left here," Hoss asked.

"Joe gave the horses from the two he fired to the two newcomers and they rode out of here early the next morning like he planned. Ain't much more to add than that. I don't have any other information about who the two he hired were. I think one of them was called Edwards or something, but the other one had a funny sounding name. I can't remember what it was, sorry," Hank said in apology.

Later that night, Ben and his two boys tried to mull over in their minds all of the information they had received from the Sullivan's and work out what it meant in relation to Joe's disappearance in San Francisco. Somehow since leaving the Ponderosa, Joe had fired Douglas and Nichols after some major disagreement. There possibly could have been some other trouble even before they reached Peaks Crossing.

At Peaks Crossing, two new suspects came into play, apparently watching Joe from a distance until they were confronted. These two men ended up being hired by Joe in lieu of Douglas and Nichols. Had the two new hands planned any of this? It seemed a long shot, with too many variables. But it did hold a little water in the fact that they had been observing beforehand.

No doubt there were many more questions to be asked once they reached San Francisco. And there could be even more people implicated in Joe's disappearance. The cast of possible suspects was growing by the minute, with no real information about who the real perpetrator might be.

Seline was behind Joe's disappearance. Ben was sure of that much, but what of these other men? Were any of them in Seline's employ? What had happened to Douglas and Nichols after they left Peaks Crossing?

Together, Adam, Hoss and their father worked out a rough plan of attack once they reached San Francisco the next day. They wanted to visit all the places Joe had known to frequent before his disappearance. They needed to get in contact with Major Branson if possible and then talk to the local police constable and organize a search party within San Francisco city.

Even once his two sons had gone to sleep that night, Ben lay awake for quite some time thinking about everything that he had heard. Obviously Seline's hand had a very long reach indeed. Just how far this man was willing to go to hurt himself using Joe was a guess. He just hoped they could gain some more valuable information soon enough and find Joe.

Ben made one final promise before he drifted off, "I will find you, Joseph!"

* * *

During the time that Ben had been travelling to Peaks Crossing and finding out about the events that had transpired with Douglas and Nichols, Joe was still being kept prisoner in the hotel room under Seline's control.

His body had protested the loudest after his struggle with Edwards and Yeager and for the majority of that day he had slept. Only waking occasionally to be allowed sips of water and a few mouthfuls of broth spooned to him from Bonnie.

The bonds on his wrists were not removed, even at meal times and by the second day of being in place, had begun to chafe the skin red and raw. He had pulled at them a few times, trying to demonstrate his discomfort to Bonnie and Seline. His complaints and suffering though went mostly unnoticed even ignored for the vast majority of time.

Seline had contacted Doctor Wilson had told him not to attend Joe until the next day upon his instruction. The doctor now knocked on the door to the hotel room at 10 o'clock in the morning, the time previously arranged.

Once inside the room, the doctor had to conceal his shock at the prisoner's state of captivity. He now saw the young man's hands restrained and a gag placed in his mouth. Although he had suggested some form of preventing his escape upon his last visit, he had no idea that his words would be taken so literally, or that the methods used would be so brash and harsh.

Even a lay man would be able to see that the young man was suffering, both from the head wound, which seemed to have bled slightly again. There was also some obvious chafing to his wrists that would become more painful should the cord remain so tight for any more prolonged period of time.

Joe's eyes were open as the doctor walked in and the physician was forced to turn away from the pain glazed eyes for fear of giving his disdain away at such abuse and harsh treatment. The patient's breathing was a little laboured, but overly so. Probably more so from the gag being in place and being forced to breathe in and out of his nose rather than the head wound being a direct cause.

The young man tried to gain the doctor's attention as he examined him under Seline's orders. Joe wanted the man to help him get away, even if he was hired by Seline. Joe was hoping that his level of suffering would be suitably noted by the doctor and he would take pity on his patient and demand that he be released.

"We are leaving now," Seline informed the doctor, knowing that this little piece of information was new to both Joe and the doctor. "I want you to administer the sedative as soon as possible so that we can load him onto the river boat and be gone from here within the hour."

Joe's eyes widened in alarm at Seline's candid admission to the doctor to sedate him. If he was drugged he wouldn't be able to control anything that happened to him. Seline was talking about travelling by river boat. To where Joe didn't know, but anywhere would take him further away from a possible escape and his family.

In response, Joe began twisting the knots around his wrists to see if he could gain any loosening at all. He slumped back in defeat when the pain from his efforts and the headache assaulted him with fresh stabs of pain.

"Now?" Wilson questioned. "You have changed the plans without notifying me," he accused Seline, hoping that the argument would lead him into a way of relinquishing his involvement with the kidnapping.

"I do not need to advise you of any changes in my plans, doctor," Seline warned ominously. "The original plans have been altered due to unforeseen circumstances, but we can delay leaving no more. I want him sedated now so that we can leave."

"Alright, I will do as we spoke of, but I don't like it," Wilson said, now concentrating on a bottle of clear fluid from his black bag and inserting a syringe to draw forth the drug.

Joe twisted in futile again with his bonds as the fear within him began to grow even more. He tried to catch Bonnie's attention, but she had already distanced herself from the immediate vicinity and kept a low profile within the room until her presence was required further.

Doctor Wilson was carefully measuring the amount of drug that would be needed, once again looking over to the victim and gauging the correct dosage according to his weight and build.

"Double it!" Seline said firmly to the doctor, noting how everyone in the room stop mid-breath at his suggestion. None of them wanted to believe that he was even remotely serious.

"Are you mad?" Wilson said in astonishment, stopping his actions, still holding the syringe and bottle in his hand. "Double is not necessary. My dosage will be more than enough to keep him sedated for the journey on the boat."

"Will it kill him if it is double?" Seline asked, wanting to know the risks of what he proposed.

"Well, no," Wilson said hesitantly. "Such a large amount of sedative would no doubt take a considerable time to travel out of his body, particularly without any activity. But it would not be fatal. I must voice my objection to such a fool hardy idea though."

"Than what are you waiting for, do as I say," Seline said angrily, taking a firm grip on the doctor's hand that didn't contain the syringe and twisting it slightly for emphasis.

"I didn't ask you to become involved for any other reason than your medical opinion, doctor. You have been paid to keep your mouth shut about this whole deal. Not to cross me or tell me that you object."

With a shaking hand, and genuine fear for his own life, the doctor continued to draw the liquid from the bottle, until it was double as Seline wanted. He put the bottle back in his black bag and now walked over to the patient with almost an apologetic look in his eyes. _'It should never have come to this'_ , he told himself inwardly.

Joe fought against the doctor as the man tried to hold his upper arm still long enough to administer the sedative. He didn't know exactly what was in the syringe, but he knew that he couldn't allow them to drug him and take control. He had to put up as much fight as possible.

"I can't hold him still long enough," Wilson said as the strain of what he was about to do the young man became evident in his voice. He was angry at himself and Seline for getting him involved in such a hinaus crime.

"Get over there and hold him," Seline directed Edwards and Yeager who had been standing in the doorway to the bedroom of the hotel suite.

"No you can't do this!" Joe screamed through the gag, not being able to make the words come out any louder than muffled jargon. "No, get away from me!"

"I am sorry son," Wilson whispered, not intending anybody else to hear the words except Joe and himself. With Edwards forcible holding Joe's shoulders down, the doctor was now able to plunge the needlepoint of the syringe into the soft skin of Joe's upper arm, just below the shoulder.

Joe grimaced at the resulting sting, still trying weakly to struggle, but all of his energy was now spent. He didn't have any fight left in him. The doctor slowly started to deliver the drug into his system through the needle, depleting the contents of the syringe a little at a time.

"Don't do this…. please…," came a barely muffled cry from Joe, loud enough to be heard and understood by the doctor.

As the doctor began to slide the needle out of Joe's arm, the effects were already beginning to show. Joe could feel his body becoming heavier and heavier. His muscles no longer had the capacity to obey even his slightest will. A fog started to drift over him, impairing his vision until it became blurring and unfocused.

Joe felt as though he was floating. His eyes already closing under the heavy demand of slumber. It only took a second more for Joe to fall completely under the drug's intoxicating effects. His body went lax under Edwards hold and his head lolled to the side.

Joe Cartwright knew no more.

"I have done what you asked," Wilson said as he got up from the bed, stilling glancing back occasionally at the unconscious patient lying under the drug cloud. "Now, I wish for you to leave me alone and I wish for no further part in this whole business."

Seline nodded his head curtly at Yeager to bar any attempt at leaving the room that the doctor might have taken.

He had already surmised from the doctor's reluctance and questioning attitude that he would no longer be of any use to his plans. The doctor had to be eliminated due to his knowledge and his potential to go to the authorities and tell his version of the story.

Doctor Wilson had his back turned to Seline as he prepared to put the tools of his trade back in their place and leave. Unfortunately he didn't realise Seline was behind him until it was too late.

With a gloved hand, Seline covered the doctor's mouth to prevent his screams and then plunged a long serrated knife into the man's back. He held the doctor upright until the dead weight slumped in his gasp, signalling the doctor had succumbed to an untimely and premature demise.

Bonnie's eyes were wide with shock and fear. She saw the man was dead, but didn't dare say anything against Seline in case the same was to be her own fate. Seline made it quite clear at this point in time that he was playing for keeps and the penalty that any in his employ risked if they crossed him.

Edwards and Yeager hid their fear well, their expressions blank and their hands remaining at their side. They didn't bat an eye at such a horrific and blood-thirsty death.

"Get rid of the body," Seline instructed, dropping the knife with a cruel casualness and then ritually going about removing his blood-stained gloves. "Take the knife and these with you. Make sure that it never gets back to me."

Without a word, Yeager and Edwards did as he asked and between them, began moving the doctor's dead body into a corner of the room until it could be disposed of once the hallways were clear of hotel patrons.

Seline now eyed the contents of the late doctor's black bag. He knew that the remaining vial of sedative would prove most useful in the future. There were a few other vials that he recognized, some could be used, others were of little value.

"Take this with us when we leave," he said to Bonnie, handing her the bag and its contents. "Make sure our guest is sufficiently warm. Take extra blankets with us if necessary. We will need to maintain a regular body temperature during his state of forced sleep if we are to keep young Mr Cartwright alive long enough to use against his father."

"The next stage of my plan is about to go into affect," Seline stated. "Ben Cartwright, say goodbye to your precious, _Joseph_."

  


to be continued…

  


Jules

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Footnotes – Okay – Joe has not had a whole lot to say in this chapter, and further more his part in this chapter is somewhat in the shadow, but I promise he will be more prevalent in future chapters.
> 
> As you can probably see already, Bonnie's character is a little confusing as to which side of the fence she is on. That is mainly because she doesn't really know herself at this point in time. Her background has been touched on in this chapter and may be further enhanced in later chapters.
> 
> The scenes with Hank and Lillian Sullivan are a diversion from the original idea I had. I didn't always have Ben and his boys finding out about Douglas and Nichols getting fired –just sort of wrote itself alone with everything else that I have added.
> 
> The scenes with Joe being sick from his head injury are also new additions. Basically this chapter was supposed to let you know how Seline and Ben knew each other and Seline's motivation for wanting to kidnap Joe.
> 
> The doctor's role was supposed to be a longer one with him travelling with them to New Orleans – guess he won't be now. The murder was unplanned, but gives me a few more ideas for the next chapter and how Ben and the boys piece together Joe's disappearance.
> 
> I have to sincerely thank Gwynne for her very helpful ideas about the route that could be taken from San Francisco to New Orleans. Her ideas certainly gave way for this story to become somewhat longer and more involved. But I hope more intriguing and interesting at the same time.
> 
> Thanks Gwynne. I really appreciate you input and assistance. 
> 
> The next chapter will see Seline and Joe make their way slowly towards New Orleans, but a whole new set of circumstances will show up to test
> 
> Please let me know if you are reading this story so far. Thank you for taking the time to read.


	4. San Francisco To Sacramento

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben Cartwright has always taught his sons certain values that made them into the proud men they are today. Someone from Ben's past wanting to seek revenge plans to take all of those values and the special bond forged between Ben and Joe and tear them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: This story deals with Joe's wanting to be seen as grown up and able to make decisions on his own about his future. Understandably his family are a little concerned at how Joe plans to deal with his idea of responsibility.
> 
> Ben Cartwright has always taught his sons certain values that made them into the proud men they are today. Someone from Ben's past wanting to seek revenge plans to take all of those values and the special bond forged between Ben and Joe and tear them apart.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the next chapter of this saga:

**RIVERBOAT GAMBLER**

**By Jules  
**

**Chapter Four – San Francisco To Sacramento**

****Author Notes:**** _This story deals with Joe's wan_ _ting to be seen as grown up and able to make decisions on his own about his future. Understandably his family are a little concerned at how Joe plans to deal with his idea of responsibility._

_Ben Cartwright has always taught his sons certain values that made them into the proud men they are today. Someone from Ben's past wanting to seek revenge plans to take all of those values and the special bond forged between Ben and Joe and tear them apart._

_I hope you enjoy the next chapter of this saga:_

_and now the story turns another page and continues:_

In a very well executed fashion, Seline made sure that the removal of the inert and unconscious hostage of Joseph Cartwright went without a hitch. He also wanted to be guaranteed there would be no witnessed to see them leaving the hotel. They could ill afford to leave with his captive only to have someone give away their whereabouts to the local police authority.

It was the dead of night that the move was orchestrated. Bonnie was the look out and stood at the bottom of the stairs. When the all clear was given with a wave of her hand, the unconscious form of Joe Cartwright was carried down the stairs, wrapped securely in blankets.

This was for two reasons, firstly, to keep him warm and counteract any effects the excessive dose of sedative might have. And secondly, to mask his identity in case the group was seen before they reached the boat yard some distance away.

Seline had previously organized a driver and carriage to pull up outside the rear entrance to the hotel. The driver had been given specific instructions as to the time of arrival and the secrecy of their passenger and destination.

The driver used a mostly English cockney accent as he told Seline all was in readiness and to climb aboard. Bonnie had gotten in ahead of Joe and helped steady his inert form as Edwards and Yeager placed him along one of the awkwardly hard seats within the carriage.

Seline was the last to board the carriage and closed the door securely behind him, still keeping careful check that nobody was watching their activities from the hotel or the surrounding streets. All was quiet and it was only the snap of the reins on the horses and the sound of the carriage wheels on the roadway that interrupted that silence.

Their kidnap plan almost came undone entirely when they were only a short distance from the hotel itself. A police officer on routine patrol had ordered the driver and the carriage to stop. The driver sought instructions from his employer, ready to snap the reins and push the horses into a gallop for a getaway if the call was made.

"Do as he says," Seline hissed to the driver.

That certainly wasn't the feeling within the others in the carriage. Bonnie was fearful, while Edwards and Yeager just wanted to be as far away from the police as they could be. They didn't want to risk being caught upon the discovery of Cartwright's bound figure on the seat beside them.

The officer was on foot patrol on the streets of San Francisco and was gesturing to the carriage driver to pull over to the side of the road. The driver reluctantly replied, with Seline still whispering harsh words in his ear. The driver together with Edwards and Yeager thought they were sunk and would be found out.

Seline on the other hand, was playing his cards close to his chest and remained disturbingly calm and collected. After pondering the potential for this all to blow up in his face, he decided to instead, turn the situation to his advantage if possible.

As soon as he saw the officer approach closer, he was certain that he had things well under control. The officer was young and his face spoke of inexperience. Seline had to pray on this notion and calculated that the officer wouldn't detect the scene of a crime happening right under his very nose.

"Good evening, Officer," Seline greeted politely, getting out of the carriage to enable the policeman a decent look within the confines of the cabin itself.

Edwards and Yeager were inwardly thinking their employer was mad and were about to voice their complaints and objections out loud, ready to demand the officer explain his necessity to pull them over in the first place.

"Good evening, Sir," the officer returned, looking up at the driver and then back to Seline. Trying his best to use the advice his sergeant had given him about taking particular note of people's descriptions and appearance. Even if he couldn't remember their names when called upon, a good description proved just as useful.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Seline asked, laying his offer of co-operation on as thick as he dared.

The officer seemed to read a little of this from the man, inwardly causing him to become a little more suspicious. He didn't voice such an opinion openly.

"Mam," he greeted Bonnie, noticing her towards the back of the carriage. She had yet to utter a word and a flashing glance from Seline told her otherwise.

"I was just curious as to why a carriage would be travelling the streets this late at night," the officer answered truthfully. That had been his reason for this area of the city. Usually the streets were deserted by 11.00pm and attention was drawn to any vehicle or rider out after that time.

"My name is officer Hunter, and it is my job to keep these streets clear of those more unsavoury characters about," the policeman explained.

"I commend you Officer Hunter. You cannot be too careful around these streets this time at night. I breathe a little easer knowing that the authorities are taking steps to ensure everyone's safety," Seline responded.

Hunter nodded his head in acknowledgement, but now caught sight of the curled up form of Joe Cartwright, due to the aid of the street lamp. He could see what appeared to be a young man sleeping on the long seat within the carriage. His face was turned away from the light, so he was unable to take note of any distinguishing features.

The officer noted the curly brown hair, and frowned slightly at a small wound just above the ear that was bleeding a little. The fact that the young man didn't move and the sight of the blood caused him to become concerned for him. The youth looked to be dressed in a green jacket but he could no see any other articles of clothing beneath the blankets securely wrapped around him.

Seline noted the officer's attention on Joe's unconscious form. He could see the brows quirk at what appeared to be an odd situation. He hoped that the officer was not astute enough to guess at anymore about the young man's identity than what was supplied to him.

"What happened to him?" Officer Hunter asked plainly.

"He had a nasty fall a day or so ago and has a concussion," Seline admitted, not believing that giving out such accurate information would prove to anyone's immediate benefit. "He is still recovering as you can see and needs to be kept warm at all times in this cool weather."

"We are moving from the doctor's office to his home under strict instructions to keep him warm. He has been given a mild sleeping inducing elixir to prevent any pain during the journey or causing him to become more disorientated. We are not from this city," he added, hoping that the officer would leave it at that and not pursue the matter any further upon hearing that he would not see the young man again after this night.

"A doctor has attended to him then?" the officer enquired, pleased to hear such information. The mild sleeping mixture would certainly account for the lack of movement from the young man. It looked like these people were caring for him as best they could and moving him as required.

"Yes, Sir, Officer," Seline answered. "We sought medical advice immediately and the young man has been under the supervision of the doctor since his accident."

Inwardly he hoped that the officer wouldn't ask further about the doctor's name or any other identifying information. The man's murder was still undiscovered at this point and time and he wanted to be well on his way to New Orleans before any discovery and subsequent investigation was underway.

"Please, Sir, every moment we delay further, the air inside the carriage becomes chillier and we risk further illness to the young man," Seline pleading with the Police Officer. "If you have no further questions for myself or my companions, we wish to depart quickly and get him settled comfortably into a bed."

"Of course, I am sorry to have delayed you. I pray that the young man has a rapid and full recovery," the Officer said, a little guilt on his face. The thing that stuck out in his mind most about the young man was the vivid green colour of his jacket and the small amount of blood visible in his curly hair.

"I will certainly pass on your regards and wishes," Seline said, climbing back into the carriage, signalling for the driver to wait until the police officer was sufficiently out of harms way before moving on towards the boat yard once more.

* * *

Yeager and Edwards scowered the dock yards when the carriage arrived, making sure that there were no witnesses to speak of. The driver looked around nervously, telling himself that he wanted no further part in this deceit once the passengers were unloaded.

Seline was still unhappy about the boat that had been secured for the journey. It certainly wasn't as auspicious a mode of transport as he had originally intended. The vessel was a great deal smaller and cramped for space to hide his hostage.

The only fortune they had been afforded was that the journey itself was a relatively brief one. No longer than twenty-four hours in the river boat and they would then be disembarking at Sacramento and onwards to Saint Louis by railroad.

The train journey had been organised to a point, but the tickets were yet to be purchased upon their arrival in Sacramento. Seline saw no benefit in setting up plans too far ahead, only to leave an obvious trail behind for Ben Cartwright to follow.

Of course, Cartwright was a sharp enough adversary and would no doubt work out which direction his son was headed in. Seline took certain measures to ensure that Ben's efforts were delayed as much as possible.

It was with great surprise that Seline heard Joe moan in his drug induced haze whilst being jostled out of the carriage between Yeager and Edwards. The young man turned his head, as though trying to come more awake. Yeager startled at the movement and the sound coming from Cartwright. He struggled with one hand briefly, adjusting his grip but losing one of the blankets in the process.

"Watch what you are doing!" Seline snapped, looking around to make sure that they their activities still went unnoticed. The moans from Joe had now ceased and he had fallen back under the cloud and was asleep again.

As quickly as they could, Joe unconscious form was taken aboard and below the small river boat. There were a number of crude bunks against the far wall and it was upon one of these that Joe was laid.

Bonnie had provided a blanket over the hard wood, knowing that the trip would be long and uncomfortable being forced to lay in such a state for hours on end. Her administrations were taken only on face value and nothing was said by Seline or the other men.

"And just to make sure our passenger doesn't get the chance to escape," Seline began, approaching Joe and observing the warmth of his skin and the rhythmic breathing. The sedative was working just fine, without impeding body temperature or causing any other side effects.

Seline now produced a rudimentary pair of handcuffs from a bag and secured one end around one of the main supports for the belly of the vessel. The other end slid easily enough over Joe Cartwright's sleep limp hand and was secured with a telltale _'click'_.

"Surely you don't think he will be escaping from here," Bonnie commented, thinking that such restraint methods on a boat were unnecessary. She had said the words before she realised what she was doing and immediately took a step back.

Her retreat was soon halted by a brutal slap across her face. She looked back at him timidly and with shock, rubbing the area that was reddened with a hand print. Tears brimmed in her eyes at the treatment.

"Don't question my methods again," Seline warned. As if playing a man with two masks, he now ran a gentle hand over the reddened print, almost in a soothing caress. "You would be better suited to keeping to what I tell you to do."

Bonnie nodded her head, not trusting her voice to respond with words. She was merely thankful that her earlier movements during the day had not been traced by Seline or his henchmen. She secretly prayed that the message she had left fell into the right hands as quickly as possible. For now, as they prepared to travel to Sacramento, she knew her own life was at risk.

"For now I want Bonnie to stay with Cartwright until he shows signs of waking up. One of you will relieve her in watching him during the night. You will take turns in shifts," Seline instructed.

"What if he wakes up and starts squawking?" Yeager asked.

Seline sighed at the lowly education afforded the men he had hired, "If he starts _'squawking'_ as you so put it, we don't have to be too concerned, Mr Yeager. We will be in open waters before he stirs, so if he does wake and begin to protest, there will be no one but the fishes and the seagulls to hear his calls for help."

"That stuff going to keep him under that long?" Edwards now asked next. He didn't proclaim to know much about medicine or how long it was supposed to work. Cartwright already appeared to have been asleep because of the drug for longer than he thought was normal.

"Yes it will. The dose given was strong, but not dangerous. I want to have him aboard the train bound for Saint Louis before attempting to administer any more. I hope that he will co-operate sufficiently once we get him to New Orleans. Until them, we just see what happens," Seline replied.

"Give the Captain the order to set off, I want to be in open waters by first light.

We have secrecy on our side at present and I wish to keep it that way," Seline stated and headed up towards the quarters that had been prepared for him.

This night they would all be forced to sleep in rougher accommodations than the hotel in San Francisco. All of that would change once they were aboard the train from Sacramento.

He had spared no expense on the train to Saint Louis, knowing that it was vital to have a separate carriage from the other passengers. It was imperative for success to keep Joe Cartwright out of the public eye until he deemed it appropriate to put the remainder of his carefully executed plan into effect.

* * *

Ben Cartwright awoke with a start. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly for a moment, trying to listen what had caused him to wake. Adam and Hoss slept sounding in their own beds across the other side of the small room. There wasn't any sound outside, not even a breath of air blew across the vacant yard.

His brow furrowed as if a voice inside spoke to him. For a brief second, it was the same feeling he had had when hearing Joe cry out to him in the bank that day.

On that occasion he had been certain that it was his son he had heard calling his name in pain and fear. Now, he couldn't be quite so sure, but the feeling of dread remained and the fate of his son grew more troublesome in his mind.

Ben got up and poured a drink of water from a jug sitting on the dresser. He lifted the curtain over the window a little, trying to see out across the yard of Peak's Crossing. He could make out the distinct shape of the corral and the barn. The horses in the shadows seemed calm enough, but a feeling of unease was becoming to hard to ignore.

It was about two hours before the stage was due to depart, but Ben knew, despite the long journey from yesterday, they would have an equally long and arduous one they faced today. Ben would get no more rest tonight, and not until he knew that his son was safe and well.

Hoss was the first to wake of the brothers, and saw his father staring aimlessly out the window. He realised that Ben must have awoken and not been able to return to sleep because of his worry over Joe. Hoss was worried too.

Lillian Sullivan had packed them an ample supply of food for the long day ahead.

"Ben," she said, taking his hands in her own, "I hope you find that boy of yours real soon."

There were not many words of comfort she could offer. She knew she could not understand Ben's anguish and torment as the hours and days passed without word of his missing son.

"Thank you, Lillian and all the hospitality you have shown us on this trip. Once we find Joseph, we will come back this way and share a meal or two." It was the only hope that he had to cling to. Not that they _'might'_ find Joseph soon. They had to find him.

Lillian and her husband waved as the dust kicked up from behind the stage coach wheels. She couldn't help but feel a sense of fear for that family, and a little bit of grief of her own about a young man who had briefly come into their lives, only to disappear without a trail.

She offered a silent prayer for them all and they both walked back into the cottage, thinking of what had been missing in their own lives all these years. _Family._

* * *

It was mid-afternoon when the stagecoach rumbled in to the dirty, smoky streets of San Francisco. Adam recognized a few of the landmarks and building upon their arrival within the city, but then their route had changed and they now found themselves gazing out at the unfamiliar surroundings.

Ben clearly remembered telling Joe to check into the Plaza Hotel before he had left the Ponderosa. He had even wired ahead to the hotel and helped made the necessary final arrangements. At least they had a starting point to work from.

Ben had used the entire trip from Peak's Crossing to mull over in his head what plans he, together with Adam and Hoss would need to make to trace Joe's last steps. Who to talk to that might have had contact with Joe before he had been due to meet the army Major at the bank that fateful morning.

Roy had already contact the local police constable, but because of the hour of their arrival, they needed to book into their own accommodations first, and by then, time would have slipped by and it wouldn't be until tomorrow morning that they would seek further assistance from the local police authorities.

Ben was still deep in thought when he alighted from the stagecoach. Adam and Hoss took custody of their luggage and bid the driver goodbye on behalf of their father. Ben gave a brief mumble in response, not intending to be rude, but his mind clearly on more important matters. His son, Joseph.

"Where do you want to go once we have booked into the hotel, Pa?" Adam asked, already knowing of Ben's plans to approach the Plaza Hotel.

"I would like to organize some horses for us for tomorrow, Adam," Ben informed his eldest son. "We need to cover a large area of this city tomorrow and horseback would be the preferred method. It will be much quicker and we can split up if necessary."

"Let's go then," Hoss stated, as he picked up the larger pieces of luggage. "I can check with the livery stable after we are settled in the room, Pa."

Ben nodded in appreciation, knowing that his boys would have to draw on reserves of patience with each action they took in the days ahead.

The dust from the stagecoach was difficult to ignore as Ben and his sons approached the front lobby area of the Plaza Hotel. As they approached the front desk, their tired, bedraggled appearances did not go unnoticed by the Concierge.

The same elderly clerk stood before the three eldest Cartwright's that had frowned on Joe's dusty and torn clothes upon his arrival a week ago. He had no way of knowing that the men were connected in anyway. But he rolled his eyes with the same look of disdain and contempt that he had given to Little Joe upon his arrival.

Whilst Joe had felt too tired, and too sore to return any sharp comments about the man's downward cast on his appearance and apparent lack of breeding, Ben was not ready to accept such a gesture of welcome, no matter how tired he felt. He did not appreciate people who thought they were better than others merely by the position they held. He intended to say a few words of his own to the clerk.

"I believe you have a reservation for my two sons and myself," Ben said in a tone of voice that suggested he wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"That, Sir, would depend on what your name would be," the man said, not interested in serving the men any longer than he had to.

"My name, Sir, is Ben Cartwright. I made a reservation with this establishment and I expect a little more courtesy out of you for the money that you intend charging me to stay in these accommodations. If the room is not adequate or to our liking, we will take our business elsewhere."

"Just a moment, please," the man over dramatised. "Do all of you Cartwright people, come to hotels in such a state," he mumbled under his breath, his mind recalling back to Joe once more.

Although Ben didn't miss the man's snide remarks, it was Adam who picked on the connection to his brother first.

"What did you just say?" he asked, his voice dropped low in warning as he stepped closer to the front desk and the clerk.

In return, the clerk took a step back, a little taken off guard by the man's sudden interest in the comments he had not meant them to hear.

"Have you had another Cartwright stay here recently?" Ben asked quickly, his dislike of the clerk instantly forgotten as he grabbed a hold of the first real clue they had stumbled across since arriving in the city.

"Yes, we had a young man come here about a week ago. He approached me dressed a little like you are, with mud all over his clothes and smelling of horse."

"Did you hear that, Adam," Hoss said excitedly, "He remembers Joe," he said as he slapped his brother on the back with sheer joy. He didn't care how his brother arrived here, or what he looked like. At least they knew that he had arrived at the hotel alive.

Ben smiled at Hoss's exuberance, but knew they didn't have all the pieces to the puzzle just yet. "That young man is my son, Joseph. He came here to San Francisco to sell some horses. He was supposed to meet a Major from the army the next day, but he has disappeared."

"And that's why you are here now," the clerk assumed, losing all of his snideness and remembering how long it had been since he had seen the young man.

"Yes," Ben said as he was relieved to see that this man was at least willing to help them. "Can you spare us a few minutes of your time to tell us what you know about his arrival?"

"Certainly, Mr Cartwright. I apologize for my abrupt and rude behaviour earlier. I am saddened to inform you that I had the same attitude of your son when he arrived, but he didn't have any challenge to my words. Maybe he should have," the clerk said.

"Gee, short shanks must have been real worn out when he got here. Any other time he would have given you a hotter reply than my Pa just did," Hoss commented.

"If you like, I can offer you his room. It hasn't be occupied since his arrival, his belongings are still in there. I didn't have any way of knowing if he would be back or not. Another day or two and I would have had to declare the room to be deemed abandoned. His belongs would have been placed into storage and a fee demanded for the costs of the room and their release," the clerk explained.

"Do you wish for me to pay for the outstanding account now?" Ben asked, thinking that was were the clerk's speech had been heading, that the room had yet to be paid for.

"Oh, no, Mr Cartwright. Your son, paid the account until the end of last week. I assume that's how long he thought he would be staying. But now that you are here, and with the explanation you have given for his not returning to the room, I wouldn't think of asking you for any further monies. Consider the account settled in full," the clerk replied.

"I'll just get the master key and ask for someone else to take my place at the front desk while I take you upstairs," the clerk now said and scurried away to do just that.

The Cartwright's were tired after their long journey, but this new information about Joe's staying at the hotel and his last known movements couldn't be ignored. They had to follow every possible trail and leave no clue to chance if they were to find Joe.

Two porters were ordered to take the luggage from Hoss and Adam, and for once, Hoss was most grateful. The extra burden of concern as well as the arduous journey had left his shoulders stiff and aching. He would be more than pleased to see a bed this night and knew his father and older brother wished for the same.

A younger man now stood at the front desk, dusting his uniform jacket and thinking that this was the first opportunity he had been asked to take on the role of Concierge. Even if it was only for an hour or so, impressions were everything and it may lead to further promotion in the future. At least that is what he told himself as he waited for the next potential lodgers to enter the lobby.

The décor of the hotel was impressive, with warm, rich colours that invited your senses in and made you feel as though you were living luxuriously. But at the moment, Ben Cartwright's gaze was fixated on the staircase underneath his feet as they followed the clerk towards the room where his son had been staying.

Hoss and Adam looked about the thin corridor as they proceeded towards the end doorway. Suite Four was clearly and neatly marked on the door in brass lettering. The master key slipped in smoothly, and there was almost no sound to note as the lock turned.

"Gentlemen," the clerk gestured, allowing the Cartwright men to enter the suite before him.

Both as a manner of courtesy as hotel protocol but also in an attempt to apologize for his earlier behaviour when he didn't recognize them upon entering the hotel. Ben Cartwright certainly looked differently to how he had envisaged a man of his social stature, wealth and reputation within the business community.

"Thank you," Ben said as he was entered before the clerk, any other words he had intended to speak, died upon his lips as he gazed about the stately room and its fine fixtures. For the next minute all so, all three Cartwrights looked about the lodgings with praise.

Although the décor and furnishings pleased the eye, what they were hoping most for was some information to come from within these four walls as so the location of their missing son and brother.

The clerk closed the door to the suite and proceeded to introduce himself a little more before continuing. He could see already that the family held great fears for the missing young man. They were hoping both he and the room where he had been last known to stay would provide some answers to many questions.

"My name is John Hoskins," the clerk informed them, shaking their hand before sitting down on the large settee provided in the living room. The lodgings were certainly large enough to accommodate them all.

Ben wondered if Joe had felt a little out of place in such a large room, filled with very expensive furniture.

"Thank you, Mr Hoskins, now if you please, although we are tired from our journey today, I would appreciate it if you can begin when you first saw my son Joseph and what events you know to have taken place after that," Ben asked.

Hoskins thought for a moment, trying to recall every time he had seen the young Cartwright fellow during the earlier part of the week.

"He came in very late one evening, just as you have done today. His clothes were all torn and muddy, so I assume he did not travel by the same method as yourselves?"

"You assume correctly, Mr Hoskins, Joe was leading a team of horses here for sale. He would have been riding his own horse," Adam interjected, answering the man's question.

"When he arrived, I wasn't convinced that he had a reservation with this establishment," Hoskins said, with a little guilt on his face. His treatment of the Cartwright's today, had not been any different.

"Did he give you an argument to the contrary?" Ben asked, knowing full well thathis son's temper may have reared at being told he was not welcome.

"No, he did not. For a moment he looked as though he might have, but he did look very tired and dirty. He asked if he could have a hot bath drawn and some towels brought to this room. He also asked about a meal. I informed him that the chef had closed the kitchen for the night, but that he would be able to get a sandwich taken up to him."

Ben went over what he had just been told, nothing seemed out of the ordinary so far. He couldn't detect anything different in the routine that he would normally have assumed from his youngest son upon arrival late at night. His first concerns would naturally have been to clean himself up and then to have something to eat.

"What happened after that, Mr Hoskins?" Hoss asked, seeing his father and brother carefully considering all of the possibilities that could have happened from what they had been told so far.

"Just call me John, please," the clerk instructed them. "I gave young Mister Cartwright his room key, then I asked one of the local house maids, Bonnie to escort your son to this suite and then bring him the hot towels and soap that he had requested."

"This Bonnie, did she talk to Joe. I take it she is employed here. Would it be possible to speak to her tomorrow and see what else she remembers about Joe after he left the front desk downstairs?" Adam asked.

The clerk looked at Adam with a confused look on his face. As though it had just occurred to him that the young girl had any connection to this matter. Of course, he had noticed her not coming to work a few days ago, but the staff turnover in the hotel was high and it was not unusual for an employee just to cease coming to work.

"I am sorry, Mr Cartwright, but I am afraid I have not seen Miss Winters for quite a number of days. I assume she has employment elsewhere now. The young ladies often turn to a different style of work when there is no other options, if you know what I mean," the clerk replied.

"How long since you saw this young lady?" Ben asked, the feeling that there was a connection to his son, beginning to become to hard to ignore. "Did she speak to Joe at all, the night he arrived here at the hotel?"

"That I am afraid, I do not know," the clerk said honestly. "She was a pretty little thing, petite with blond hair. She smiled sweetly at the young man and he seemed to smile back in return. She appeared to appreciate his charm and good looks, even under all that mud and dust."

Adam and Hoss gave a wry smile as they pondered that piece of information.

Ben chuckled too, they all knew that it didn't take much for Joe to be attracted to a pretty young girl. And there was no denying that Joe had the charm to do the same.

"I saw her the next morning, she had taken some fresh linen up to your son's room. She completed her shift around lunch time as required, but I haven't seen her since. You don't think that she and your son may have, shall we say, gotten close over a very short space of time?" the clerk asked, not wanting to accuse Joe of anything, but thinking that the idea was at least plausible and worth mentioning.

"The coincidence is too much, Pa," Adam commented. "I don't think Joe would have just ran away with the young lady, but maybe she and he got caught up in some trouble together?"

"I agree, but until we learn more about this Miss Winters and her whereabouts, then it is purely speculation on our part that her not coming to work and Joe's disappearance have anything in common. There may be a perfectly reasonable explanation for her stopping her employment at the hotel. For now, we have to concentrate on finding your brother. Perhaps as we learn about his last movements, we may learn more about Miss Winters," Ben stated.

"Did you see my son, Joseph, the next morning Mr Hoskins?" Ben asked plainly. "That is the day that he was due to meet Major Branson from the army at the bank.”

"Yes, I did, Mr Cartwright. He arrived early to have breakfast in the dining room and told me that he needed to attend the bank. He also said he needed to purchase some new articles of clothing as others he had been carrying with him were damaged on the journey to San Francisco," the clerk answered.

"Can I see those bags that Joseph was carrying, Mr Hoskins?" Ben asked, whilst he thought about Hoskins's information.

Hoskins moved from the settee in the living room to the bedroom, retrieving, both the set of clean clothes that had been laundered by the hotel for Joe and the grimy saddlebags that contained the rest of his belongings.

"These are the clothes that your son was wearing on the evening he arrived, Mr Cartwright," Hoskins said as he handed the items to Ben. "There were a number of tears in the shirt as you can see, but our fine team of workers downstairs did the best they could to restore them. These are the bags he was carrying."

Ben lay the clothes aside for the moment as he carefully inspected the remaining contents of Joe's saddlebags. There was no identification or wallet that he could find. No doubt, Joe would have been carrying them on his person when he left the hotel to meet with Major Branson.

"These bags are in a terrible state," Ben said out loud as he looked curiously at the amount of caked mud built up on the leather and the stitching that held the bag together. The bags would have been wet when Joe arrived, and then because they had been allowed to dry naturally, the stitching had become cracked and brittle. It would only take a small amount of weight for them to crumble into dust. The bags were of no further use to anybody.

"Looks like he went through a heap of water, Pa," Hoss commented, thinking it to be the most reasonable explanation for the state of his brother's luggage. It would also explain Mr Hoskins earlier comment about him having to buy fresh clothes.

There was one set still within the bag, but it was mud stained and beyond any kind of repair. They would need to be discarded too. The condition of the bag and clothes, in addition to what they had already been told about the journey to Peak's Crossing, only heightened their concern for Joe. It was obvious that the journey had been difficult even before he arrived, and had become more perilous it seemed, upon his arrival in the city.

"Your son left the hotel after breakfast, Mr Cartwright, and I am deeply sorry to say that I have not seen him return yet," Hoskins said, the last few words barely above a whisper. It was becoming increasingly hard to ignore the length of time since someone had seen the young man.

"Thank you for your help, Mr Hoskins," Ben said as he placed the items on a nearby table. For now, it seemed as though they had a few, unclear pieces to the puzzle and a lot more questions than answers. The mystery wasn't going to be solved overnight. They would all need to get some rest and food before making a more determined and fresh start in the morning.

"Mr Hoskins, in the morning, one of my sons will make enquiries with the livery stable about some horses for our use. We will of course make our way to the police station first thing, and I wish to try and talk to Major Branson before then," Ben said, making a mental list of what needed to be done first. They needed to start at the earliest point in time and work forward and see if there were any clues to be found on where Joe might be.

"I will make sure that hot water and towels are also provided to you on this evening, Mr Cartwright. I will have some meals prepared and brought to your room. Please, don't hesitate to inform me or my staff if there is anything you need," Hoskins said as he prepared to exit the suite.

"Thank you, Good Night, Mr Hoskins," Adam said as he closed and locked the door behind the man. "I am certainly looking forward to that hot bath."

"I just want the food," Hoss said with a sheepish grin, Adam slapping him playfully on the shoulder. Both looked at their father, only to see him toying with the starched collar on Joe's freshly cleaned shirt. They knew there were so many questions and thoughts plaguing his mind at the moment. Neither one of them spoke, so as not to interrupt what seemed to be a private moment of reflection.

While Adam and Hoss prepared for a bath and food, Ben stood, using the fingertips of his right hand to feel the material of the shirt. At the moment, it was the only piece of evidence he had that Joe had been in the room, in this city. He was hoping that by some miracle, the cloth might reveal a secret or two.

The meal was brought to the room, thought none of them really felt like eating.

Silence and an awkward tension filled the room, as they all had one person on their mind. _Joseph_.

Where was he, and what trouble had befallen him since arriving at the hotel?

Adam and Hoss retired almost as soon as they had finished eating, the journey taking its toll.

No matter how tired though, Ben found it difficult to find sleep or rest. He lay in bed, trying to close his eyes, but when he did so, all he could see was the face of his missing son. All he could hear was the voice full of fear he had heard call out to him that day in Virginia City.

* * *

Unbeknown to him at the time, just as Ben drifted off into an uneasy doze shortly before dawn, his son Joe, was beginning to wake from his drugged induced slumber.

At first, it couldn't be determined if he was actually waking at all. His eyelids barely fluttered and any effort to open them because too insurmountable to contemplate the attempt to do so.

What eventually caused him to moan softly, was the growing nauseousness. As Joe started to become a little more alert, he frowned as he thought his body was moving. Up and down. He tried to move one arm very slowly, but only felt a stiff ache in return. It didn't seem plausible that he was moving so much to become nauseous.

The feeling didn't go away however, and the more alert he become, the stronger the sickly feeling became. Now he was trying to force his eyes open, so that he could see where he was. It was then that he moved his arms a little more, and though he still felt the stiffness and the ache, what he heard was the clink of a chain.

He frowned even more, as he tried to figure out what might be making the sound of a chain so close to him. His eyes opened to barely slits, almost shutting again as a narrow beam of moonlight shone through from the upper deck and hit him square in the face.

After a few more moments, his eyes adjusted to the light as he moved his head slightly to the side to avoid it. This movement only caused a headache to erupt, he moaned softly again at the amount of pain that rippled through his head.

With his eyes now open and his brain praying that he didn't move another muscle, he began looking about as best as he could. The environment was dark except for that moon beam, making it difficult to see anything more than the outlines of large objects.

He was laying down, that much he could work out. The nauseousness still steadily getting worse. If it became to the point of throwing up, he doubted he had the strength or energy to be able to even roll himself onto his side.

With his arm feeling incredibly heavy for some unknown reason, his eyes followed the length of his forearm, all the way up until he saw the reason for the sound of the chain. Until now, he had barely felt the shackle around his wrist, but now could see that he was chained to a wall.

The fact that he was chained at all, made him forget every other pain in his body momentarily, as he tried his best to sit up and voice an indignant protest at being restrained like this. He had no recollection of where he was or how he had gotten here. His head felt ready to explode with pain from his headache and the rest of his body seemed lethargic and unresponsive.

"That's enough of that for now, my young friend," a voice from the darkness spoke.

Joe had jumped slightly, not realising that there was somebody else in the room. It wasn't until he saw the figure come towards him into the light a little more, holding a syringe in his hand that he vaguely recognized the face.

He kept looking at the man, the thought playing on his mind where he had seen the man last. Then, like a bullet, the answer hit him. Memories of being forcibly held down and a needle being inserted into his arm came back to him. He recalled a doctor bending over him and the face of the man looking at him from across the room. It had been this man that had ordered the doctor to use the needle.

"Why you...," Joe said as his temper began to flare at his treatment and abuse. He barely got past a few words when the figure forcibly held his arm once again. Joe tried his best to pull away, but the grip was firm and with his other arm chained to the wall, there was very little he could do to get away.

"You can't…," Joe said as he heard his own voice began to trail off. His thoughts began to become clouded again and the pain seemed to become dull. He felt like he was floating away. His eyes began to flutter as he desperately tried to maintain his focus on the man holding him captive.

Seline withdrew the syringe, noting a small trail of blood due to Joe's struggle to free his arm as the needle was inserted.

Another moment, and Joe's body fell back onto the crude sailor's cot once more. His eyes were closed and his breathing shallow and even, indicating he was under the effects of the drugs once more.

The dose was only half of the one the doctor had been instructed to administer. It would be sufficient to keep young Cartwright under sedation until he was safely hidden away on the private carriage of the train headed for Saint Louis.

Another twelve hours and they would be in Sacramento and he would make the arrangements to purchase the tickets for the train.

After Seline had climbed back up to the above deck of the boat, Bonnie came back down to see how Joe had faired after another dose of the sedative. The blankets had slipped partially down to his waist and she now adjusted these to cover his upper body and shoulders. She used a damp cloth to gently wipe his face, but there was no reaction to her activities as the young man lay deeply asleep.

* * *

Despite the lack of sleep, Ben was already sitting at the table first thing the next morning, keen to make an early and determined search for his missing son.

"Good Morning, Pa," Adam greeted his face, a little worried to see the signs of tiredness on his father's features. He took a great deal of solace in the resolve he saw as well. Adam knew his father would leave no place to be searched, nor any stone or bushel unturned.

"Morning, Adam," Ben greeted his eldest son. "Sleep well?" he asked.

"Not too bad. You don't look as though you got much yourself, Pa," Adam commented.

"I don't think I will be able to truly rest properly until I know your brother is back with us safe and well," Ben responded. "I want to get going within the hour and make our way to the police station as early as possible today."

"Good Morning, Pa," Hoss said as he took his place at the table after finishing buttoning his leather vest. "I will have my coffee and then get down to the livery stable and rustle up some horses."

"Make sure you explain that the mounts are probably going to be out for most of the day, and we may need them for longer than today. Pay whatever the fee comes to, in addition to food and grooming care," Ben instructed.

Hoss soon left his father and brother to go and organize the horses like he promised. He was to meet them back in the hotel lobby within half and hour. He quickly waved towards John Hoskins as he stood at the front desk. The clerk though it odd to see one of the Cartwrights, but assumed that the other two wouldn't be too far behind.

When Hoss first entered the livery stable, he couldn't see anybody about. He decided it worthwhile waiting a minute in case the owner was attending to something else. He didn't see the young stable-boy in one of the back stalls that Joe had spoken to upon his arrival at the Plaza Hotel.

What Hoss did see that took him totally by surprise was the sight of his brother's mount Cochise, happily grazing on some hay in one of the front stalls. The horse looked up at the person approaching her, and gave a soft whinny of recognition.

Hoss wanted to jump around for joy at seeing Cochise, he was full of smiles as he reached out and patted her gently on her soft nose. He then proceeded to walk around her, carefully examining every inch of her to note any injuries or signs of mistreatment. There was no denying that it was Joe's horse.

"Cochise, girl, you don't know how happy I am to see you," Hoss said to the horse as he went around behind her. He lifted each hoof, noting that the animal seemed to be well cared for. Any debris that might have lodged in her shoes from the trail from Virginia City had been cleaned out. Her coat had been groomed more than once and she looked well fed.

Hoss had his back to the front of the stall and did not see the small figure of Timmy Wilkins as he approached the large man with the end of his hay fork. "You back away from that horse, Mister, real easy now."

As if to add emphasis to his words, before Hoss turned around to see who was speaking, he felt the sharp end of the prongs dig sharply into his meaty thigh. It wasn't hard enough to cause any damage, but it made him give a brief yelp.

"What did you go and do that for?" Hoss demanded, trying to snare the fork out of the youngster's hand before he could inflict another jab with the prongs.

"You don't own that horse, Mister, so you just back away from it nice and easy and leave before there is any more trouble," Timmy warned, his hands betraying how he truly felt though as they trembled slightly.

"Listen, I don't own this horse, but my brother Joe does, and he is missing. My family and I came all the way here from Virginia City trying to find him," Hoss explained.

"Missing?" Timmy asked, the first time he had truly considered why the young man had not come back for his horse so far. He had promised to take good care of the horse and had done so up until now.

"Having some trouble here, son?" Ben Cartwright asked as he and Adam Cartwright entered the livery stable, behind Timmy. They had not heard much of the conversation yet.

Timmy, startled, whirled around, still holding the menacing looking fork in his hand and now pointing in the direction of Ben and Adam.

"This fellow was touching that there horse that don't belong to him. Says it belongs to his brother. But I don't know who to believe."

Ben tried his best to gain control of the situation and calm the frightened boy down so as they could talk about the situation. "Put the fork down son," he said in a gentle voice.

Timmy stayed in the same defensive position for a moment, looking at Ben, trying to detect any sign that the man might be lying. It wasn't the first time someone had come to the stables claiming to own a horse, only to find out later that they had been not telling the truth and merely wanting to gain a mount free of charge.

Timmy then lowered the fork to the floor, still holding it nearby, believing that the three strangers meant no harm. His suspicions fell away altogether as he watched all three of them gather around the paint horse and talk amongst themselves.

"Is she alright?" Ben asked Hoss, his own surprise at seeing Cochise evident. It was the first real tangible clue they had come across to prove that Joe had been at the hotel except for Hoskins account of events.

"She looks fine, Pa," Hoss answered. "Been well taken care of. I don't know who has been doing it."

"I done the caring for that horse," Timmy said in a small voice from behind them.

He looked a little timid as the Cartwrights turned to face him and hear what else he had to say.

"You cared for this horse?" Adam asked, crouching down to the boy's height, so as not to frighten him anymore than they had. "Did you talk to the man who rode her into here?"

"Sure, he came here about a week ago. Had curly hair and a green jacket," Timmy said, confirming for the family that it had been Joe who had brought Cochise to the stable.

"Did he say much to you when he arrived?" Ben asked with hope in his voice.

"My name is Timmy. Timmy Wilkins. The man came here, late one night, looking tired and all dirty. He had some other men with him and asked if they could leave their horses here for the night. The other men left shortly afterwards, they didn't spend too much time taking care of their horses. I did all the rubbing down and removing their saddles and that."

"How many men were with him when he arrived?" Ben asked, knowing it might be the first clue to determining who many people were with Joe after the trail from Peaks Crossing. They might be able to establish if any of them had any involvement in Joe's disappearance.

"Um, including that man, five, I think," Timmy replied, thinking a moment, but still not exactly sure. "Sorry, but it was late and the light in here wasn't very good. There might have been more."

"That's alright, Timmy. Any information you can give would be most welcome.

You see that young man that brought this horse here is missing, and we are very worried about finding him," Ben explained, trying to explain their need to know all the details without scaring the boy further.

"That's what he said," Timmy said, pointing towards Hoss. "I hope he is alright, he was very nice."

Ben smiled at the comment in reference to his son. He could believe that too. Joe usually had a natural ability when talking to children, that often went unnoticed.

"What happened after the other men left?" he asked, trying to get an accurate account between the livery stable and when Joe approached Mr Hoskins at the front desk.

"The man asked me to get a fresh bucket of water and some hay and oats. Then he started to remove the saddle and bridle. He rubbed her down, said he didn't like anybody else doing that to his horse. And that he didn't want anybody else touching the horse without his permission," Timmy explained.

"Sounds as if you were doing a real good job too," Hoss said ruefully as he rubbed lightly at the place where the fork had dug into his trousers. "Joe would have been real proud that you kept your word, Timmy."

"Is he really missing? I haven't seen him since, but just thought that he was busy or something," Timmy asked.

"Don't worry, son, we are going to do everything we can to find him. We just have to known what he was doing from when he came in here until the next day. That's the last time anybody saw him," Ben said, smiling at the boy's concern.

"Did Joe come here the next morning, even just to visit his horse?" Adam asked, knowing that practice to be a common one for his brother, even back at the Ponderosa. It might make for an additional sighting of Joe after he left the hotel lobby when John Hoskins said he saw him last.

"No, mister, I didn't see him again," Timmy answered.

Adam thought for a moment before giving his theory. "Pa, that means that when Joe left the hotel the next morning, he was on foot. He must have walked to the bank to meet with Major Branson."

"A few more pieces to the puzzle, but nothing substantial enough to know what happened before he got to the bank," Ben said. “Let's go and meet the Police Sergeant and see if they have any clues to Joe's whereabouts."

"Timmy, we came to see if there were any horses we could use while we look for Joe?" Adam asked the stable boy.

"Well, there are the two mounts for two of those fellows with Joe. They never did come back to collect them. Two other fellows did. That two horses for you and I have a few others to pick another from," Timmy offered.

"I wonder why two of those fellows came back for their horses and the other's didn't?" Hoss asked out loud. It seemed a little odd that some of the hands with Joe would ride out, whilst others left their horses in the stable with no real intention to return for them.

"The care and cost of the horses is two dollars for the week each," Timmy said, not feeling comfortable about having to charge these people when they were looking for their missing family member though. He didn't have any choice though, if they didn't pay then he would be expected to pay or at least work off the amount owing.

"That's fine, Timmy," Ben said, reassuring the boy, and expecting no less than having to pay such a reasonable sum for the horses. "I will be sure to add a decent amount for you if you continue to take care of Cochise for us."

"Sure, Mister, I will take care of her. She is a nice horse. Don't need to do much but feed and brush her each day. Not all the horses we get through here are like that," Timmy responded with a smile. He would gratefully accept the offer of payment, his mother at home needed the money. He would have been just as willing to do it without reward.

Ben and his boys bid goodbye to the young stable boy, the time already starting to get away from them already. But the time had not been entirely wasted. They had gained some useful information. Some of it sounded confusing and lead to more questions, but it was appreciated nonetheless.

* * *

The three Cartwrights were soon mounted on sturdy looking steads. They looked to be fine enough horses. Two of them bearing the Ponderosa brand on their rumps, the horse chosen for Adam, did not.

Riding down the main street of San Francisco was notably quite different to riding down the streets of Virginia City. Apart from the obvious obstacles of carriages and buggies that shared the cobblestone roads, the air had a distinct different aroma to it.

The streets were crowded, even for this early in the day and the smoke billowing over the city from the industrial factories near the water front, hovered over the buildings like a grey blanket. The mood between them was sombre as they made their way towards the Police Station.

With the horses hitched to the railing out the front, the Cartwright's now made their way into the rather impressive looking police establishment. It was a large building that only bore a worn crest out the front to signify it belonging to the Police Department.

The were two sets of doors they had to walk through before coming towards the main front desk. On the way through the first set of door, the family couldn't help but notice a homeless man laying along the wall. His long coat was crusty and tarnished with many nights of sleeping under the elements. His hair was long and unkempt and his face unshaven.

The homeless man made a feeble effort to rise as if to beg the person walking through the door for some pity or mercy. His body too tired and lethargic to manage more than a wave of his arm and a mumble of words passing over his lips.

Ben couldn't look without being saddened by the state of some of the citizens of the city. It wasn't his place to judge his man. Lord knows, he had seen a number of drunken cowboys in a similar state back in Nevada. But looking at this poor pathetic creature, who had obviously not partaken in a hot meal or a bath in several weeks, the Cartwright patriarch knew he had a lot to be thankful for in his life.

He knew that society was to blame for most of the homeless people. There were very few people that cared what happened to the destitute or trodden on. And fewer people still that did anything about it. They walked past him day after day as if he wasn't really there.

Just a smudge on the face of the city and the community to most no doubt. But somewhere in the back of his mind, Ben couldn't help but think that once, perhaps a long time ago, this man had a future. Maybe he had a family, perhaps he had fallen on harden times. He would have had a roof to keep him dry and a place to call home instead of the rotten piece of cardboard that he now clung to as his only meagre possession.

The thought that struck Ben the hardest as he paused a moment at the door, looking on with sympathy and wishing there was more he could have done to help. The man would have had a name. Maybe not something famous or deserving of reward or praise of any sort. But a name. One that was now lost to others and no longer mattered.

The front desk was a hive of activity for a few minutes, with police officers coming and going with haste, others talking to people waiting to be attended to. A lot different to the small confines of Sheriff Roy Coffee's jailhouse in Virginia City.

Finally, the desk seemed to clear a little, so that only the Cartwright's were left to find someone to help them. The name tag read: Constable William Hunter.

He was a youngish police officer, probably only a few years experience outside of the training academy Adam assumed.

"May I help you gentlemen?" Officer Hunter greeted them.

"Yes, please, Officer," Ben spoke on behalf of the family. "My name is Ben Cartwright, and these here are my two sons, Adam and Hoss Cartwright. We have come here from the Ponderosa Ranch in Nevada Territory because my youngest son, Joseph went missing in this city approximately 3 days ago."

"You say your youngest son is missing?" the officer repeated, making sure he understood why the me appeared anxious and concerned. "Can you tell me a little bit more about him, Sir?"

"I don't mean to be rude, young man, but is there someone more senior I can explain this too. Perhaps you could be there too. This is a matter of urgency and having to tell the story more than once will only delay our search time," Ben said.

"I am not offended, Mr Cartwright, and I can see by the look on your faces that you are wanting to seek help quickly. However, the senior officer of this precinct, Sergeant Wylie Cooper has just had to leave the building to attend to another matter. It is likely that he will be gone for the majority of the day," the Constable said in apology.

"Could you tell us where we could find this Sergeant Cooper?" Adam now asked.

"Would he object if we were to approach him for assistance while he is attending to this other matter?"

"I don't think he would, I have some other important paperwork and messages to deliver to him myself, I can accompany you and show you the way," Constable Hunter offered.

"Thank you, we would appreciate that. The local Sheriff was going to wire him and let him know of our arrival and about our brother's disappearance," Adam continued.

"Come to think of it, I do recall him saying something about getting a wire the other day from a lawman, but he didn't discuss the contents or details with me at the time," Officer Hunter recollected.

"Have you had any reports lodged with your department about a missing young man?" Ben asked, as he leaned on the long hardwood counter.

"Not that I have received, Mr Cartwright. I am sorry. Sergeant Cooper usually handles cases such as those because they can be complex and messy. He was called away this morning to one of the hotels not too far from here. Seems as though they found a body in the rear alley way."

Ben's complexion paled considerably and it wasn't until he felt a reassuring hand from Adam on his shoulder that he realised his knuckles had turned white from his grip on the edge of the counter upon hearing the Constable's words.

"Don't jump to any conclusions yet, Pa," Adam said gently, realising what his father had assumed. Whilst he didn't want to believe that the body found was or had any connections to his brother, it was easy to see where Ben had drawn the inference from.

The Officer had a confused look on his face as he watched Ben, more concerned at the man's sudden ashen appearance. It wasn't until he heard Adam's comments that he understood his words to have a devastating impact on the family.

"Oh, my sincere apologies, Mr Cartwright. I didn't think just now. But please don't be alarmed, the body found was that of a middle-aged doctor. Not of a young man like your missing son," the man explained.

Ben forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths and calm his nerves, berating himself for acting so foolishly to an idle comment. He knew that his mind had merely twisted the officer's words to torment his soul. He gave a wan smile towards Adam and Hoss to indicate that he was perfectly alright, if not a little shaken.

"If you are ready, I will take you over there now. It is only a short distance, would you prefer to walk? Officer Hunter enquired.

"That will be fine, Constable, please lead the way," Ben said, slightly embarrassed. He really had let the concerns for his son get the better of him just now and allow them to control his thoughts.

* * *

The four men, lead by the police officer, now travelled the short distance across the busy city street to a hotel building, some two blocks away on the opposite side of the road.

Upon seeing the hotel in question, it appeared to be similar in style and luxury accommodation as the Plaza Hotel. There was one less floor, but the building was wider, with more rooms on each floor to compensate for the difference in height.

Unlike the Plaza Hotel, there was a man dressed in a smartly adorned uniform to greet all potential guests and patrons. There was a great deal of police activity already taking place within the building and certain areas were roped off to restrict access to authorized personnel only.

"Good morning, Officer Hunter, gentlemen," the man greeted them. "Sergeant Cooper is on the top floor. You will be able to tell which room."

"Thank you, Mr Jenkins," Constable Hunter said in reply, gesturing his appreciation for the information. "This way, please, Mr Cartwright," he now said to Ben as the three Cartwright's following along the carpeted floor inside the lobby to the stairs.

Another police officer guarded the bottom of the staircase and made enquiries with Officer Hunter as to the identity and purpose of allowing the Cartwright's any further passage. When he appeared satisfied at the brief explanation that was given, he moved aside to let them begin climbing the stairs.

Just as they reached the top of the staircase, they could see a number of well-dressed gentlemen using photographic equipment. There were two other younger men assisting with the filming process, also making sure that everybody remained out of the focus of the camera.

They felt a little uneasy as they neared the room where the alleged murder had taken place. As they came to the doorway, they could clearly see a body draped in a white sheet. The sheet bearing blood stains, indicating that the death of the middle-aged man had been a violent one.

A small, rotund looking office dressed in a police uniform was deeply engrossed in surveying the murder scene. Making sure that the body was still in the exact position it had been found in. He made a number of notes in a small book he was holding, not wanting to leave any clues overlooked.

"Excuse me, Sergeant Cooper," Constable Hunter said as he went to alert his presence to his superior officer.

"Yes, Hunter, what is it?" Cooper asked, not looking up at first. When he did so, he was a little surprised to see three strange faces in the middle of what had become a murder investigation. "I trust you have good reason for bringing these gentlemen into such grizzly site?"

"Sergeant, these men all belong to the Cartwright family. This is Ben Cartwright, and his two son's Adam and Hoss," Hunter introduced, looking for confirmation that he had remembered everyone's name correctly.

"Pleased to meet you gentlemen, but as you can no doubt see, I am quite tied up at the moment. What is the nature of your business that is urgent enough for Officer Hunter to escort you into such a mess?" Cooper asked, still looking over the body and trying to figure out if there was anything else to take into consideration or not.

The Sergeant knew that the investigation was going to take some hours still. With very little else to do before the body could be removed, Cooper decided to give a few precious minutes he had to the strangers in the room.

"My name is Ben Cartwright, from the Ponderosa Ranch in Nevada," Ben said, repeating his name and indicating just how far away from home they currently were. "Our local Sheriff Roy Coffee was to send a wire to you about my missing son, Joseph," he said, giving the same version of events that he had given Officer Hunter at the police station.

Sergeant Cooper tried to think back over all the messages he had received from the last few days. He did recall one coming from Nevada, and vaguely remembered it speaking of a missing man, but the other details it contained had been overshadowed by the events of this morning.

"I apologize, Mr Cartwright, I know you must be worried about finding your missing boy. I remember a wire from Virginia City, but it didn't give a description of your son. Said he was thought to be missing around this city somewhere. Because we had not had any actual missing person's reports lodged with the station, we didn't have many leads to try and trace before you arrived."

"I don't have any actual proof at this point in time, Sergeant, but I have a strong feeling that my youngest son Joseph has met with foul play and might be being held against his will," Ben explained, trying to give as much detail as he could with no hard evidence to back up his gut instinct about Seline's involvement in Joe's disappearance.

"What makes you think that he was forcibly taken, Mr Cartwright?" Sergeant Cooper asked. He didn't want to outright disbelieve the story, but with many years of experience, and a few even involving very worried parents, he had to have a factual account of what happened before he could point the finger at a suspect.

Ben knew this was going to be difficult to explain, but he started as best he could.

"A few weeks ago, a man known as Marchant Seline came to Virginia City. At the time my family and I were unaware of his presence in town. It wasn't until after he left a few days later that we found out that he had been specifically asking about Joseph from a number of our friends and associates."

"What is his connection to you Mr Cartwright? How long have you known this Seline character?" Cooper asked, taking out a small notebook and making scratching notes as Ben spoke.

"Seline and I have known of each other for a very long time. He was a business associate with my late wife Marie, who is also Joseph's mother. He has always vowed revenge against myself for taking her away from New Orleans and against Marie herself. He has written several letters over the years telling her of his intentions to harm her or her family," Ben answered.

"Seems like he has carried this grudge for a while, going by the tone of your voice. What happened after he left Virginia City?" Cooper enquired further.

"That was a little bit of a mystery until we learned that he took a stagecoach. We received a wire from a way station that he had suddenly ceased his journey before reaching his final destination. By then, my son had already left for San Francisco on horseback with a string of horses that he had broken and had contracted to sell to the army."

"We learned that Seline had privately bought a horse and headed in an unknown direction, but we make the strong assumption that the whole trip was supposed to be a decoy or distraction to take focus away from his real intentions," Adam informed the officer as he joined in the conversation.

"And you think he came here to San Francisco?" Cooper surmised.

"Yes. Joseph was staying at the Plaza Hotel on the night he arrived. We have already confirmed that with the Concierge, John Hoskins. He saw Joe arrive and again the next morning when he left to go to the bank to settle the horse contract," Ben stated.

"Did he make the appointment at the bank?" Cooper asked.

"No, that's where the trail runs cold, Sergeant. Major Branson sent a wire after we feared Joe was kidnapped, that my son had failed to meet with him to deposit the proceeds of the horse sale into the bank. Nobody has seen him since," Ben continued.

"You suspect that Joe was kidnapped before you received the wire from the Army Captain," Sergeant Cooper said, picking up a few clues.

"I can't deny that I haven't heard of the Ponderosa. You are a wealthy business man in a few circles, even here, Mr Cartwright. If your son was kidnapped, do you think the motive might have been money or ransom?"

"I _know_ my son was kidnapped Sergeant, but I don't think that money was the only intention on the part of Seline. He wants to take my son away and prove that he can do it and stop me from being able to do anything about it. He thrives on the idea that he hurts me by using Joseph as the bargaining tool," Ben said with a noticeable hardened edge to his voice, not being directed at the police officer.

"Have you searched anywhere in the city yet, Mr Cartwright? San Francisco is a large place, and there might be lots of places to hide somebody who has been kidnapped. Can you describe what he looks like or what he might have been wearing on the day he disappeared?" Cooper asked, stilling making copious notes. He wrote down the name Seline, vaguely recalling the name mentioned on an occasion or two, but he couldn't remember why.

Up until now, Bill Hunter had stood by, quietly listening to the explanation and strong ascertains given by the Cartwrights as to why they thought their son and brother had been possibly kidnapped. It wasn't until he heard the young man's description now, that he knew he had made a dreadful mistake only two nights ago.

"Joe is about 5 feet 6 inches tall, slim build. Has curly brown hair and green eyes," Ben informed the officers, giving the most detail he could. "I would assume he was wearing his usual attire of tan, hard wearing trousers, a brown coloured shirt. Probably the most distinguishable item of clothing that he is known to wear is his green corduroy jacket."

It was upon hearing the comment about the green jacket, that Bill Hunter decided to bring himself into the conversation.

"Did you say green jacket, Mr Cartwright," the officer asked, his features portraying a look of guilt for the naivety that he had shown in his police duties a couple of nights ago.

Adam could see from the almost strangulated look on the officer's face, that the young constable only just realised he did know something about Joe's disappearance.

"Did you see Joe?" he asked plainly, seeing the man was genuinely remorseful for leaving out such information earlier when asked.

Ben and Hoss now turned their attention directly to the younger, less experienced officer, as did Sergeant Cooper. He knew that Hunter was a good worker and a genuinely good police officer. But he also knew of his lack of experience and his ability to overlook a clue, should one choose to present itself.

"I think I might have, two nights ago," Hunter confirmed, closing his eyes and recalling the conversation he had had with the man from the carriage. He did remember seeing a young man with a green jacket. He could also remember the colouring of his hair and the fact that it was curly, because he had made a careful mental note about the visible head injury.

"You had better start from the beginning of that night and tell us exactly what you saw, Bill. Nobody is going to chew your head off, but there might be a clue to where the young man is," Cooper said, trying to reassure the officer who clearly was inwardly rebuking himself enough for the mistake.

The murder investigation was not put on hold entirely, and they couldn't exactly forget it altogether with the body of the unfortunate victim still laying on the floor draped in a blood-stained sheet.

It was only when Bill started to go back over the events of that night and the route he had patrolled that he recalled the hotel they were currently in to have any connection to the new matter being discussed.

"Actually, I was patrolling the street outside this hotel, only a few metres away. I remember that clearly now. It was about twelve midnight and a carriage had come from the direction of this hotel and was making its way down the street, towards the boat yards," Hunter said as he gave his version of events.

Ben already had a dozen questions, but could see the officer was trying his best to remember every detail and decided against interrupting his story at this point in time. There would be time for further questions at the end. His insides were twisting with every word, making it harder and harder to listen to some of what he had suspected had happened from the beginning.

"I thought it was odd for most people to be travelling at that hour at night, so I asked them to stop so I could ask them the nature of their nocturnal activities," Hunter continued with his story. There were three men, excluding the young man laying down in the carriage itself and one young woman."

"What did the young lady look like?" Adam asked, remembering back to John Hoskins's information about a young female employee that had also gone missing about the same time as Joe.

"Quite small, petite one might say, and blond hair," Hunter said, not having taken a great deal of interest in her appearance. "She didn't speak at any stage. Stayed close to the young man inside the carriage."

"What did the other two men look like?" Ben asked, trying not to directly ask more about the young man. They needed to know who Joe was with, particularly if he had been taken against his will.

Hunter ended up giving a description that matched the ones they had received about Yeager and Edwards from the Sullivan's at Peaks Crossing. Ben informed the Sergeant and the Constable briefly about Joe having fired two of the hands for their reckless behaviour and hiring two other men in their place.

With the matching description of the young woman from the Plaza Hotel and the two mentioned from Peaks Crossing, it was difficult not to draw the inference that somehow all of these events had been very carefully and meticulously orchestrated by Seline.

The characters were all merely his puppets, to draw unnecessary attention and suspicion away from himself. He appeared to be the master of deception and was drawing upon the skills of others to help him achieve his ultimate goal.

The question remained about how many others were involved in this plot to kidnap Joe.

"Did the young man say anything at all?" Adam asked, seeing the need in his father's eyes to know if the young man was indeed his son. Unfortunately, they already knew the truth.

"No, and I was quite concerned about him. He appeared to be asleep and was wrapped in a few blankets and stretched out along the seat inside the carriage. What worried me the most was a small wound on his temple that was bleeding slightly. I enquired as to whether or not he was alright," Hunter answered.

"Could you see any other injuries on him?" Hoss asked, his first real question in the whole conversation. But that didn't stop the anger within him from slowly surfacing. He wanted to find this man called Seline and make him pay, especially if he had hurt Joe.

"Nothing except the small head wound. And it was only bleeding a little. The man I did speak to the most, gave the explanation that he was indeed injured, and that they were not from around this city. They were taking him to the boat yards, intending to take him back home for medical treatment," Hunter said.

"I apologize for my poor lack of judgment at the time, Mr Cartwright. The explanation given at the time seemed plausible."

"You are not to blame, Officer Hunter. No doubt, Joe was either unconscious from that head injury or another sustained from trying to stop his attackers. Most likely if they were trying to smuggle him out of the city, then they could have given him a sedative of some kind to stop him from resisting them and moving him. That is why he may have appeared so deeply asleep," Ben remarked.

"But, Pa, if they were on their way to the boat yard two days ago, that means that they have already left San Francisco. We don't have any way of knowing where they might have been taking Joe," Hoss said, his voice betraying his sense of defeat.

"I know son, but we will just have to do the best we can to try and find out where Seline might have taken Joe with him. Knowing Seline, he won't be able to stop from leaving some sort of clue behind, just to gloat that he had still has Joseph," Ben said, a touch of anger towards his kidnapper beginning to show through.

* * *

Adam glanced briefly at the body of the man on the floor and couldn't help but think that somehow this was all tied to his brother's disappearance. Especially since Officer Hunter had already given account of the carriage leaving this hotel only a day or so after Joe's disappearance. It was more than coincidental.

"What are you thinking, young man?" Sergeant Cooper asked Adam, seeing the mind ticking over with the information that they had already gathered. Like his father, Adam couldn't help but surmise that Seline had employed a number of people to help him with Joe's kidnapping.

As if to confirm Hunter's brief details earlier of what this man did for a living, he posed a question. "Did you say that this man was a doctor before he was murdered?"

Already seeing which direction was headed in, Sergeant Cooper was more than happy to answer the question. "He was a doctor. His identification on him gives his name as Doctor Carl Wilson."

"And if my father's assumption that Joe was drugged in the carriage is correct, then Seline would have needed a doctor to administer the drug. Is there any way of finding out how many times this doctor has been to this hotel over the last few days?" Adam enquired.

"Yes, this hotel is usually very strict about who comes and leaves here without being a paying customer. I will have someone go down and get the visitors log. That should have his name on it. It should also indicate the first time he visited and the time he was here," Cooper said, giving a nod of his head towards Hunter to collect the log.

Until lunch time that day, the two police officers and the Cartwrights, poured over the visitors log, seeing how many occasions, Doctor Wilson's name appeared and the times. With the information they had put together, they were beginning to form an sketchy theory of what had happened. There was very little doubt in anybody's mind that this Doctor had been hired by Seline.

Why he now lay on the floor murdered, was a mystery in itself. Obviously there had been a major disagreement and Seline had deemed the doctor's services no longer required. Rather than leave a witness, so to speak, and that he took everybody else with knowledge of the kidnapping with him, Seline had not wanted to leave any loose ends within the city.

Sergeant Cooper tried his best to put the pieces they had together in some sort of crude order.

"It appears that the doctor's last visit was on the same night that you saw the carriage outside the hotel, Bill. But there are two earlier entries than that, signifying that he was required for more than administering any sedative."

"Perhaps, the head injury Joe sustained caused Seline some concern," Adam suggested, the others nodding their heads in agreement.

By the look of things, Seline certainly had this all planned out well before Joe even left Virginia City. He had this young blond woman keeping tabs on his movements when he first arrived at the Plaza Hotel. It was probably her that alerted Seline and his thugs to Joe's intentions to walk to the bank on the morning he disappeared."

"They probably attacked him on the way to the bank, causing the head injury in the first place. Joe wouldn't have willing gone with them, once he realised they were up to something underhanded," Adam said in his brother's defence. "They probably had to subdue him and knocked him out in a side street."

Ben nodded, but didn't trust his own voice at that moment, thinking that the cry he had heard in the bank that day from Joe might have been as a result of sustaining a blow to the head. Seline wasn't just underhanded, as Adam put it, he was vicious and brutal and showed no compassion or sympathy at all towards his captive.

Although Bill Hunter had been most apologetic about his actions in this whole affair, if it had not been for his curiosity and suspicious nature about a carriage travelling so late at night in the first place, they might not have made the calculated guess that the young man was indeed Joe. Being drugged, and headed for the boat yards with the sole intention of being taken to an unknown destination out of San Francisco.

"Let's head towards the boat yard now and see if they have a register as to any ships or vessels leaving the harbour within the last 2 days," Ben suggested. Every minute that they wasted now, only played further into Seline's hand and allowed him to get further away with Joe as his hostage.

"I am afraid I will have to stay here for quite a while yet, Mr Cartwright," Sergeant Cooper said apologetically. "I wish I could go with you to sort this matter out sooner, and aid in your search, but my job demands that I remain here at the scene. If your son has been taken out of San Francisco, that leaves my hands tied up. I would be out of my jurisdiction to use my powers in another city or state."

"No need to apologize, Sergeant Cooper," Ben said as he shook the man's hand in thanks. "You have helped immensely, especially with your office here. When we find some more clues we will let you know where we are headed to next."

"Officer Hunter, you have been more than helpful. Your actions on that night were not out of character for any police officer and you just might have given us a window of opportunity in tracking down my son and his abductors. We have a clearer picture now of who might be travelling with Seline, thanks to your good memory," Ben stated.

"If that Seline character turns up in San Francisco, Mr Cartwright, I will be sure to have him arrested in suspicion of kidnapping. Although he might have fled the city, if he decides to return, then the charges will stick because your son was taken by force here," Cooper now said, hoping to give the Cartwright's a sliver of hope that Seline would be caught and brought to justice.

"You can contact us at the hotel in the evenings if any information about my son should surface. Leave a message with the Concierge, John Hoskins if we are not there. He will be glad to pass on any new leads and is already aware of our search," Adam told Bill Hunter.

The young officer nodded his head in agreement and would certainly do so if the situation arose.

Ben and his two eldest sons now made their way back down the staircase and out of the hotel. They crossed the busy street once more and the mounted their horses and started rising in the direction of the boat yard.

* * *

Ben had an ever feeling of dread settling over him as he thought about Officer Hunter's version as to how he had seen Joe that night. At the time Ben had only assumed about the drugging as a logical step that Seline might have taken.

As he slowly rode down the street, with more time to think, a shiver passed down his spine at Seline's callousness and brazen attempts to hurt the entire Cartwright family by kidnapping Joe. He knew that if his son thought his life was in danger he would have put up a struggle. Joe would not have gone willingly with Seline.

The smell of the salt air as Ben neared the docks brought back good and regretful memories. It had been a considerable amount of time since he had felt the salt laden breeze on his face and the abrasiveness on his face. The sea was an experience all of its own. It could sooth you to sleep on a calm night as the stars guided you through a safe passage to your destination.

The sea was also a jealous mistress at times. She could rise up to great heights with very little warning and bring fear and destruction crashing down all around you as she battered your sails with her relentless winds and her treacherous waves. On a stormy night, her voice was like that of a banshee, deafening and screeching her displeasure.

On a calm day, the breeze was like a soft whisper in your ear and a warm caress against your cheek as it ruffled through your hair and spoke of new horizons and dreams of a travelling to new lands and cities.

If Seline had chosen to take Joe by force out of the city, what conditions were they to face once upon the open sea. He didn't know of Seline's destination, but any journey with an ill-equipped and experienced crew was peril. He doubted the two men that had travelled with Joe from Peak's Crossing had any sea-faring experience. The young woman said to be with them, no doubt would be of little help should trouble ensue on the vessel.

_'Were there provisions taken with them? How long did Seline expect the journey to last? Were there ample blankets to keep warm and fuel for the vessel? Did Seline rely on a map or compass to make his decisions?'_ These were all questions Ben asked himself as they rode on, his own days of roving the seas causing him to wonder what precautions, if any, Seline would have taken.

Once the three arrived at the boat yard, they tethered their horses to a hitching railand proceeded on foot towards the main shipping office.

The dock was very busy, with wagons laden for ships awaiting departure as well as others being unloaded of their cargos. San Francisco was a major port to many industries, especially to towns and settlements further inland. The port was a vital link to the rest of the world and employed a great number of people to keep the operations running smoothly.

A small bell on the door tinkled as they entered the shipping office to make enquiries about boats that might have left the area with Joe smuggled aboard.

A man with sea weathered face greeted them with a smile. It was plain to see that he had spent the majority of his life on the ocean.

"Howdy, gentlemen, what brings you in here today?" the man asked. The visitors didn't look like they were interested in small talk.

"Good day, Sir, my name is Ben Cartwright and these are my sons Adam and Hoss," Ben responded.

"We are desperately seeking information about a boat, or any vessel that might have left here within the last three days." Ben had begun to tell their reason for being there, when the man interrupted him, recognizing the name.

"Ben Cartwright, you say?" the man said, frowning a little and thinking where he had heard the name. After a few moments, he realised that he hadn't heard the name spoken in conversation, but it had been written down on a piece of paper.

"Yes?" Ben replied, seeing the odd look on the man's face and holding his breathe that the man might already have some much needed information about Joe's disappearance.

"Sorry to stop you, but I think there is a message for you here," the man said, not looking as he spoke, but rifling through a large mound of papers scattered about on the desk in front of him. "Now where did I see it?" he asked himself, knowing that his office skills left a lot to be desired.

"You have a message for me?" Ben asked, trying to think who might have left the message. How long ago had it been left? What information did it contain and who had left it behind? Did it have anything to do with Joe's disappearance?

Ben couldn't think of any other reason that somebody would leave a note for him. Perhaps Seline was being even more devious and leaving a ransom demand or gloating at still holding his son captive.

"I apologize about this mess, Mr Cartwright. I am an old sea dog, belong on the sea I do. But others disagree and say that I am better off leaving such things to the young folk now. Ah, here it is," he announced, retrieving a small yellow envelope.

Ben smiled and nodded at the man's explanation. He couldn't deny that there weren't times when he thought about his sea-faring days and remembered the sense of freedom and vigour that it had provided when he was younger. Though, he had been happy away from the sea for many years now and had three grown sons to show for it. He wasn't regretful about his choice for a change of lifestyle.

"Don't rightly remember who left it and it doesn't have any other name on the front but yours, Mr Cartwright," the ex-seaman said, handing Ben the envelope. "I hope its not trouble for you."

"My son has been kidnapped and we have just learned this morning that his abductors may have taken him out of San Francisco by boat. We came here to ask for clues to which boat it might have been. Maybe there is something useful in this note," Ben explained.

"I am right sorry about your son, Mr Cartwright," the seaman said. "Kidnapping is a terrible thing. Not right to take anything that doesn't belong to you, especially something as important as a human life."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Hoss agreed. Now all of there eyes fell on Ben as they waited for him to scan the details of the message.

The note read:

_Ben Cartwright,_

_Joe is being taken to New Orleans by a man who wishes to do him great harm._

_I cannot provide any more details at this time as I fear my own life may be in danger if my actions are discovered._

_Please travel with all haste._

_Do not delay._

_Your son needs you._

"That's all it says," Ben said as he read the note out loud to the group. "It isn't signed to indicate who wrote it. Not even an initial."

"New Orleans? Why would Seline be taking Joe there?" Hoss asked.

Ben sighed audibly, knowing all too well by now how Seline was playing the game of cat and mouse.

"Because that is where Marie was from," he said simply. He read the contents of the note one more time before crumpling it in his hands out of anger that was beginning to surface once again.

Adam and Hoss looked at each other with empathy for their father. Seline was truly out there to hurt their father emotionally, with both the kidnapping of his son, and also by bringing up memories from the past about Marie and her background.

"Whoever wrote the note seems concerned for Joe," Hoss commented, thankful that author had taken the time. Though it was clear that they thought they might be in danger as well.

Ben thought to himself for a moment. Perhaps the deceased doctor left the message. But that seemed unlikely due to the time of his death and the times recorded in the hotel log about his movements during the last day or so before he was murdered.

"Maybe one of the other ranch hands that was with Joe noticed something," Hoss offered forward, but that was even more unlikely than the Doctor.

"The writing was very neat and legible," Adam noted, trying to figure out the author by the way the message was written. "Perhaps the young lady that was with Joe in the carriage and was at the Plaza Hotel when he arrived?"

"That is a good guess, Adam," Ben acknowledged. "She could have had more of an opportunity to leave the message than anybody else. And by the tone of the message, maybe she thought Seline might have been watching her activities."

"All of this doesn't help us find which boat they left on, whether a note was left or not," Hoss said, trying to maintain the focus on finding Joe. "Which way would they go to New Orleans?"

"They would have to travel to Sacramento by boat and then change transport to either train or stage coach to Saint Louis," the seaman informed them. At least he could help in the quickest way to help their missing family member.

"Then that's what we should do too," Hoss declared, ready to board the first boat they could find to chase down Joe and the kidnappers before they reached New Orleans.

"There would be a better way for you to go from San Francisco," the seaman told them.

"The stagecoach leaves here today for Sacramento. There won't be another boat headed that way until the day after next. By then, the stage would already be in Sacramento. You might be able to catch the train or another stage to Saint Louis from there."

Ben tried to weight up in his mind which would be the best and fastest method of transport. If they took the boat, they would have to wait another couple of days.

More precious hours for Seline to get the upper hand and further away with his son. If they took the stage today, the trip would be arduous and long, but they would be in Sacramento sooner.

"We will take the stage today. We have to do anything we can to catch up with Seline to help Joe, no matter how harsh the impending stagecoach journey might be. We will have to sacrifice a little self comfort in order to save your brother," Ben said as he made the decision.

Adam and Hoss had no objections to their father's wishes. They knew that Joe would be paramount in his mind and he would be willing to forgo things such as money, time away from home, comfort and whatever else was necessary to get his son out of Seline's clutches.

"I thank you for your information and the message, Sir," Ben said as he was about to bid the seaman farewell. "You have been of tremendous help and hopefully Joe will soon be home with his family."

"Adam, you go back to the hotel and settle the account with John Hoskins and pay whatever maybe outstanding. Hoss, you talk to whoever runs the livery stable and arrange for Joe's horse to stay there for as long as necessary. We will return these mounts today, just before the stage is due to leave," Ben said to his sons.

"Where will you be, Pa?" Hoss asked, knowing that Ben intended to organise the tickets for the stage.

"I will leave a message at the Police Station for Sergeant Cooper about our plans to travel to Sacramento. Perhaps another wire could be forwarded to the local Sheriff there, warning him to be on the look out for your brother and Marchant Seline's party. I will meet you two at the stage coach office. The time now is about two p.m. in the afternoon. We might have luck on our side and find a stage that is leaving before sundown."

Once Ben and his sons were mounted on their horses again, they split company, Ben headed in the opposite direction towards the stagecoach office. Adam and Hoss travelled back down the road they had come to return to the Plaza Hotel.

"Hold on Joseph, I am coming son," Ben whispered in prayer.

To be continued …...........................................

Jules

  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Please forgive the lack of Joe in this chapter. I needed to focus on how Ben and the boys worked out the clues to finding Joe. I promise lots of Joe in the next chapter. 
> 
> The next leg of Joe's journey with Seline with Ben in pursuit, but a few days behind. A very important incident will take place in the next chapter that will shape how the rest of the story pans out.
> 
> All traces of having a cameraman taking photos of the doctor's body in 1860 have been removed lol. I never picked it up until recently that forensics of even chalk outlines would not have been used in those times.
> 
> I hope I am not becoming too predictable at guessing what is going to happen. Seline will begin to change Joe as he originally intended to. Joe will start to display a change in his personality and behaviour. These actions, slowly leading him to becoming that Riverboat Gambler.
> 
> Please let me know what you think of the story so far. I hope you are still reading and enjoying.
> 
> Jules


	5. Train To New Orleans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stranger from Ben's past is about to come into the life of his youngest son, intending to tear down the close father/son relationship they share. In the process of being written with more complicated content and hopefully a better story. Fifth Chapter has now been edited, added to and posted. (August 2019)

**RIVERBOAT GAMBLER**

**By Jules  
**

**Chapter Five – Train To New Orleans**

****Author Notes:**** _This story deals with Joe's wanting to be seen as grown up and able to make decisions on his own about his future. Understandably his family are a little concerned at how Joe plans to deal with his idea of responsibility._

_Ben Cartwright has always taught his sons certain values that made them into the proud men they are today. Someone from Ben's past wanting to seek revenge plans to take all of those values and the special bond forged between Ben and Joe and tear them apart._

_I hope you enjoy the next chapter of this saga:_   
  


_and now the story turns another page and continues:_

  
  


When Seline and his mixed crew of Bonnie, Yeager and Edwards finally berthed at the wharf in Sacramento, Joe Cartwright had little idea of how grateful they truly were to see dry land again.

The journey aboard the seaworthy vessel had been perilous and full of treachery as the winds had picked up a hour after midnight and thrown the crew from one end of the boat to the other.

Joe Cartwright himself had remained under the heavy cloud of sedation that Seline had inflicted, and had been prevented from being tossed as harshly due to the iron shackle placed around his wrist when they had first boarded.

Yeager and Edwards had cause to think that their hostage and captive had the better end of the deal. Usually they were not men who would have called themselves weak, but they both exited the small boat very pale faced and looking for a good draft of rum to cure the nausea that had plagued them for much of the journey from San Francisco .

Bonnie had been unsteady on her own feet as she had travelled by boat only once in her young life. Her features were almost as pale as those of Joe Cartwright below the deck, and she had uttered more than a few terrified shrieks the previous night as the wind began to take control of their craft and toss it about as not more than a cork on the sea.

Even Marchant Seline himself had to pause for half an hour when they berthed at the wharf and calm the nerves that had come from their journey almost being ended by the wind.

"Edwards, you stay here with Bonnie and with Cartwright until I get back. The two of you get him ready to travel, wrapped up in the blankets like we did before from the hotel in San Francisco," Seline instructed.

"Where are we headed to, Boss?" Yeager asked, noting the omission of his name.

"You and I are going to the train station to make sure that all of the arrangements are in place and to purchase the tickets for the train to Saint Louis. Once everything is place we will hire a buggy from the livery stable and bring it here to transport young Mister Cartwright to the train," Seline explained.

"We could just take him on-board and have it look like it just a passenger on the train," Edwards suggested.

"No!" Seline said with forced behind his voice. "I don't want to leave anything to chance. We cannot risk one of the other passengers seeing him on board ready to give a report to the Cartwright's later when they ask. This must be done as secretly as possible.”

“I will purchase enough tickets, but no information will be given to the Station Master as to who the passenger is. I have arranged for a private carriage on the rear of the train. That way, we will stand no chance of being interrupted without warning by a curious conductor or other railway staff board the train."

Bonnie drew her shawl around her shoulders a little more as she watched Seline walk away with Yeager towards the train station. She shivered slightly, but she doubted it was the chill in the air that caused such a reaction.

Edwards had been standing a short distance away from the petite blond woman and noted the expression that crossed her face. He could clearly see the struggle within herself to deal with the situation at hand and where her loyalties truly lay.

"Why are you doing this, Bonnie?" the man asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied, noting the uneven tone of his voice that betrayed his own line of thought.

"Hey, I am here for the money and nothing else. You think I care what happens to that Cartwright pup. I have been against people like him all my life. People who get born into money and never give a damn about the hard working people beneath them," Edwards snarled with contempt.

Bonnie remained quiet after his outburst and turned her head to look at the sea behind her, but deep down inside she knew that Edwards was just as nervous about this whole kidnapping operation as she was. Even if he tried to hide it behind a loud exterior. Money might be an incentive to keep going, but it wasn't what fuelled Edwards motive to keep being involved.

"Lets just hope that the money reward is worth all of this in the end," Bonnie commented, reinforcing her own walls.

"You said it," Edwards retorted. From there, the conversation dried up and they stood there both knowing that they would need to get Cartwright ready as Seline had instructed before his return from the train station.

* * *

Whilst Bonnie and Edwards were lying to each other about what their respective motives were, the mastermind behind this whole operation, Marchant Seline and his other sidekick Yeager had made their way to the ticket office of the train station.

Until now, their movements seemed to go greatly unnoticed. There was only a lonely middle aged porter and the ticket officer to be seen. The train still being shunted from the yard and the call from the conductor for passengers to board was some considerable time away.

"Keep a look out whilst I purchase the tickets," Seline instructed and walked swiftly towards the ticket office before Yeager had a chance to reply.

The ticket officer was much younger than the porter they had spotted within the station upon arrival. Seline was relying on his use of persuasive speech and charisma to obtain what he wanted without too many questions being asked about the extra tickets he was purchasing. His main goal was to make sure that there was no record of Joe Cartwright being aboard the train.

"Good Morning, Sir," the ticket officer greeted Seline, putting away the small green covered register he had been writing in. "May I help you with your travel plans today?"

"Thank you, young man, Mr ….?" Seline began, waiting for the officer to give him his name rather than give his own first.

"Reynolds, Sir. Harvey Reynolds," the officer replied, straightening his jacket a little and giving the impression of a well respected employee with experience.

"Yes, Mr Reynolds," Seline said, doing his best to gain the young man's confidence from the start.

"I am needing to travel to Saint Louis today. There shall be myself and some colleagues of mine. We have a very important meeting to attend to. Do you have any seating available?"

"Why, yes Sir, we do. There are many fine seats still available. Exactly how many should be travelling with you?"

Seline thought carefully of how to word the next question, knowing that he needed to avoid answering the man's question or at least be as vague as possible but still give a reply that would seem like an answer.

"Do you have any private carriages available that would suit myself and my colleagues?" Seline asked.

"Yes, sir we do. There is only one private carriage on this particular train, but at present it has not been booked. Would you like to occupy this carriage Sir?" Reynolds asked, adjusting the collar of his shirt once more within the last few minutes.

Seline didn't want to seem over-interested straight away, although a private carriage is what he had planned for all along. "That would depend on the nature of the facilities that are offered aboard this carriage, young man."

"Oh, the very finest Sir, I assure you," Reynolds announced excitedly. He had never known any passenger not to be impressed when they had stepped aboard the luxury compartments. "I could tell you if you like. The carriage will be shunted from the train yard within the next half an hour, then I can give you a tour myself."

"Thank you, yes I would like to hear and upon my being satisfied, I will take up your generous offer. No tour will be necessary. I am a little pressed for time this morning," Seline commented, noticing the time on his watch, and calculating the time needed to conceal his secret passenger aboard the train before departure.

"Well, Sir, the compartment is finished in a very rich dark wood with velvet cushioning for the seats. A dining table is provided and four elaborately decorated chairs. There are fine bottles of brandy and sherry provided in crystal decanters and glassware to pour into. Your meals can be brought to your carriage by the waiter and served by your own personal waiter."

Seline was liking the sound of this carriage more and more until the young ticketing officer spoke about the meal arrangements. He did not want to interrupt the colourful speech, but needed to guard his activities once inside the carriage.

"Thank you, Mr Reynolds. You have been most helpful. I will enjoy very much the comforts that you have spoken about. However, with the meals, I would prefer it that one of my colleagues attends the dining car and was to bring the trays back. I have no need to take one of your valuable waiters to assist us with dinner," Seline remarked.

"Are you certain, Sir, there is no additional charge for the waiter's service. That's what they are employed for," Harvey said, a little confused by the refusal of the first class service being offered.

"No, no, quite certain. I am a very private man, Mr Reynolds, and although travelling aboard public transport, I expect no less than complete privacy. With the use of this carriage, I should not be disturbed as we travel to Saint Louis. My work is very important to me and I do not appreciate any loss of concentration," Seline said, his voice dropping a level to appear a little sterner, but still amiable enough for the conversation.

"I will make a note of that, Sir, and inform the other officers aboard the train of your need for privacy and not to be disturbed. If you need anything throughout the journey, all you will need to do is approach one of the conductors that are there to help the passengers. They will be more than happy to assist," Harvey explained.

"If you will kindly tell me the tariff for the journey, I will pay you now in cash," Seline said, knowing that money would keep the young ticket officer on his side. He made sure that the wallet he carried was clearly visible and that Reynolds would be able to see the corners of the notes protruding through his fingers as he slowly extracted the amount required.

Reynolds was clearly taken in by the display of cash. His gaze never wandered from the open wallet as he quoted the amount required. His mouth had gone dry and he put his hand to his mouth in order to conceal his expression. He was not a young man of means and his meagre weekly wage barely got him and his sister through with food and the basics of life.

Up until now, Yeager had played no part in the plans that Seline was expertly orchestrating before him. He could see that his boss was taking the young man for a fool and trying to buy his trust with money. One look at Reynolds young face told him that the plan was working.

Seline handed the fare for the journey to the young man, in all crisp new notes. The young ticket officer's hands trembling slightly at such a large sum.

"And here is a little something for you," Seline teased as he handed another crisp note to Reynolds. The bait was working very nicely as his eyes grew large at the amount presented. He couldn't say that he didn't accept the odd silver coin from passengers for being so generous with helping them with their luggage and local information. But this was more than he would make in a month as a ticket officer.

"Thank you, Sir, but I cannot possibly accept such a generous offer," Reynolds stumbled, not knowing if Seline would be offended by his refusal. His main concern was what would the Station Master think if he learned of his officer accepting such large tips from the passengers.

"Of course you can," Seline confirmed, pushing the note back into his hand and winking at the young man that it was alright to accept it. "You have done your job well, and I wish to reward you for such helpful and courteous service."

"Thank you, I will not forget your kindness," Reynolds said, not really knowing what else to say.

As Seline and Yeager were about walk away, Reynolds remembered his job and knew that there was certain information that needed to be gained from each passenger before boarding. These new rules and regulations had not been in force very long, but because he was only a junior officer and looking to promote himself, he needed to do his task accurately and efficiently.

"Please, Sir, I need to fill out my passenger register. I need your name and some other details. All part of the new rules introduced by the railways across the state." Harvey informed Seline.

Seline paused, a sharp reply on the edge of his tongue, but instead of antagonizing the situation, he tried to keep the atmosphere friendly. "Do you really need such information, Mr Reynolds. I do like my privacy."

Harvey thought for a minute, wanting to comply with the gentleman's request. In the back of his mind though was the protocol and procedures of the station that were required. The register was a safety measure introduced to keep track of all the passengers in case of an emergency. Being a little naive and taken in by Seline's charm and money, he came up with a compromise that hopefully would be agreeable to all parties.

"If I could just have your name, Sir, then I can enter that into the log and you wouldn't need to tell me the names of the other passengers travelling with you. Just how many," Harvey suggested.

Seline had actually expected to have to provide much more information as the young ticket officer had asked for, but if he could persuade him to be satisfied with less, than all the more to his advantage.

Although he knew that Ben Cartwright would be astute enough to follow their route, half the information would be to Seline's information. It would provide clues, but not give all the answers, and Ben would waste more time looking for his son and that would work better into his hands until they reached New Orleans .

"Very well, my name is Marchant Seline, I will be travelling with this gentleman standing beside me and one other. There will also be a young lady present in our carriage," Seline provided.

"Thank you, Mr Seline. I apologise for the inconvenience, but I must complete my assigned tasks," Reynolds replied.

"Certainly, I understand perfectly. You have done well. If I return to this station in the future, I will recall what good and courteous service you gave," Seline said encouragingly.

"Good day to you too, Sir," Reynolds said to Yeager. All he got in reply was a grunt in acknowledgement. Harvey pulled out his green register and wrote the name as quoted "Marchant Seline" and placed the numbers 2M 1F after the name, indicating the other passengers that had been indicated without identifying them.

Reynolds had seen them depart the station area and assumed that the gentlemen had gone to collect their luggage to be boarded onto the train. He could see the railway workers beginning to prepare for the engine and carriages to be brought through, ready to take on cargo and supplies before the scheduled departure time.

Harvey made a mental note to make sure he spotted the group as they boarded the train and saw to their luggage being treated carefully. He knew that some luggage handlers had a tendency to be rough with the passengers luggage. He wanted to make sure that his efforts were worth the more than generous tip he had received.

* * *

Whilst Seline and Yeager were making their way back towards the dock to collect Joe Cartwright for their impending journey by railroad, Bonnie had gone below the boat to check on their prisoner and get him prepared for travel as asked.

She walked over to him, and the first thing she noted with a frown was that while he had been silent for entire journey from San Francisco, the young man was tossing and turning. Enough for him to being having a battle with his restraints.

Bonnie thought that perhaps he had been in this dark hull for too long. She poured a glass of water from a pitcher nearby and brought it to his lips. Just as she did so, his hand moved suddenly in a jerking motion, knocking the glass out of her hand onto the floor.

It was only then that she noted that he seemed to be reaching for the wound along his hairline, as if to indicate this to be the cause of his distress. With gentle fingers, she attempted to probe the area, seeing some perspiration forming on Joe's forehead.

Joe's hands attempted to reach the area again, and he gave another whimper of pain. She was forced to hold his hands against his chest as best she could to prevent him hurting himself further. His hands were warm, but not a natural heat, and she gave a small gasp as she used a free hand to feel his temperature. His forehead was hot.

Too hot. Perhaps as a complication of the drug concoction he had been given or from the head wound itself.

Bonnie startled slightly as Edwards appeared behind her, drawn by the sound of the shattering glass a few moments earlier. He had assumed that Cartwright had been attempting to get himself free and that Bonnie might have been struggling with him.

"What's wrong with him?" Edwards asked, noting that Cartwright was mumbling and moving about, but certainly not making any attempts to escape his bonds.

"He's burning up," Bonnie said. "A fever, but I don't know if it is the blow to the head that is causing it or being cooped up in here too long."

"What do we do about it?" Edwards said, moving a little closer and noticing the perspiration on the Cartwright kid's skin. "There ain't no doctor about like before."

"I know, but we have to try and get it down somehow. If his temperature gets too high, there could be all kinds of problems and then who knows what will happen. We may not even have a hostage to collect any ransom money," Bonnie commented.

Just as Bonnie finished her sentence, Seline had come aboard the ship and had caught the tail end of the conversation about Joe Cartwright having a fever.

"Trouble, Bonnie?" Seline asked casually.

"Could be. He has a fever. I just noticed it now when I came to get him ready. The wound on his head looks closed still, but the edges are slightly red. He is still out of it mostly from the injection you gave him," Bonnie replied.

Edwards moved out of the way and allowed Seline to move closer to the small bed and inspect his hostage and his condition. After looking and thinking about the journey ahead that he had arranged, he spoke.

"Can he still be moved?" he asked plainly, looking at Bonnie for the answer.

"I suppose, but like I just said to Edwards, we need to get his temperature down. Its not extremely high, but it could become high if we leave it and do nothing.

"Give him some water for now before we move him. We will keep him wrapped up. Like you said, it doesn't look too high at the moment. Once aboard the train, you can try to get it down with some cool water. That's what any doctor would tell us to do anyway. I don't want to waste any more time looking for a doctor now before we board the train. We can find one in New Orleans if he becomes worse," Seline instructed.

Bonnie had brought a cup of water to Joe's lips as required and for the first time in quite a number of days, the young man showed the first signs of beginning to emerge from his grey cloud of confusion. Bonnie held the cup but watched his face intently for a few moments to note the various changes in expression.

Despite the shackles around his wrists, Joe raised a hand slowly to his forehead, the chain clinking from the movement. This small noise seem to bring Joe back to the present even more. His eyes were struggling to open, he wanted to speak but didn't think he had the strength to do so.

Even if he wanted to speak, his thoughts had no cohesion whatsoever and drifted inside his head with no real order to them. He took a sip of the water offered, but turned his head away with the offer of more.

Joe swallowed deliberately and slowly. His tongue feeling thick and like it was covered in cotton wool. He moaned and his eyes now opened very slightly. The darkness of the room inside the boat disorientated him further, and his eyes took on a very glazed appearance. Evidence to the fact the drugs were still within his body.

Joe blinked twice, trying to clear his vision, noting what looked to be a small blond woman standing beside her. He wanted to reach out towards her and ask her where he was. His eyelids began to droop once more and the words on his lips all but fell away unspoken.

Bonnie could see him attempting to form a question in his mind by the expression on his face, but then what little energy he had been able to conserve during his arduous journey was now spent and she could see that he had fallen asleep again before he could utter another sound.

She brushed a few stray strands of hair out of his eyes and then went up top to speak to Seline and Edwards.

"How is our young Mr Cartwright?" Seline enquired upon seeing her emerge from below.

"Beginning to wake up," Bonnie said plainly. "He opened his eyes briefly and looked like he was about to say something, but then he just fell back asleep. You had better get him on that train quickly, before he has the chance to wake up more and that drug to wear off. He might be a little feistier next time he wakes."

"Well, well, I must say the young man continues to impress me with his stamina and ability to overcome adverse situations," Seline commented with a slight smirk on his face.

He knew that he would have a fight on his hands once Joe was more aware of his surroundings and what had happened to him. In fact he was counting on their being a battle between them. After all, the boy was Marie's child and she would have put up as much of a fight.

"Get him brought up from down there and loaded into the carriage before anyone sees anything," Seline ordered to Yeager and Edwards as he stood and watched the two go below. He struck a match on the underside of his boot and lit a cigar as Joe Cartwright's inert form was loaded into the waiting carriage.

Joe was loaded into the carriage feet first and before they could get him settled enough along the bench seat inside, a brief gust of wind whipped the tan hat off his head, causing it to fall into the gutter.

Bonnie knelt down to retrieve it, holding it out towards Seline rather than placing it back upon Joe's crown of messy brown curls. "We can't afford to leave anything behind that somebody might find to identify him," she commented casually.

"Very clever of you, my dear," Seline said, taking the hat from her. "Yes, we cannot afford to leave too many clues behind for Ben Cartwright to find," he said, knowing full well that he had left quite a few deliberately himself.

Nothing specific that would link him to the disappearance of Joe Cartwright. But enough to be a teaser and torment to a father trying to find his missing son. To be so close in finding the one he loved but not close enough to rescue him from danger when it threatened the most.

With a snap of the reigns, the carriage moved slowly towards the railway station, its silent prisoner inside away from prying eyes. Edwards had taken position beside the driver, giving directions as necessary. Yeager was seated inside with Bonnie and Seline, a gun close by his side in case trouble presented itself.

Bonnie couldn't help but feel nervous the closer they got to the train. Every now and then her eyes wandered to the prone form of Joe Cartwright on the other seat. He didn't move or make any noise since being placed inside there from the boat.

With every mile she couldn't help but wonder what trouble she was getting herself into as well as the handsome young man laying there. Right at this very moment, although she never showed it openly on her face, she felt every bit the prisoner that Joe Cartwright was. Not in shackles or tied up as he was, and her freedom had not been taken away completely, but a prisoner all the same.

* * *

Whilst Seline and his party travelled through the streets of Sacramento towards the train station and the journey they would take further to Saint Louis , another coach was also making a journey.

Ben Cartwright and his two sons, Adam and Hoss were currently travelling on the stagecoach from San Francisco towards Sacramento. Time was of the essence, but even with the stage travelling as fast as the horses could run, there was no way of knowing if they were going to be able to reach Joe in time.

The road was rough and the heat inside the stagecoach oppressive, but none of that seemed to matter to Ben as he stared out the window. His mind was elsewhere. Hoss and Adam could see the inner turmoil within their father and how helpless he felt right at this minute.

Ben's expression was blank, and that was probably the most difficult for Adam and Hoss. In the past, their father's face was the window to his soul. Being able to tell his various moods and feelings by the kindness in his eyes or the disappointment in his jaw line when they had done wrong.

Ben let out an audible sigh and wrung the bandana tightly in his hands as a sign of his frustration. His own nerves were twisting just as much inside. They could pre-empt all they liked and guess at Marchant Seline's next moves or where they might have taken Joe.

They were travelling now to Sacramento on a hunch. Purely that. There was no real way of knowing if they were getting closer to being able to rescue Joe or going further away, well out reach of any help.

He had to put all his trust and faith in God that he would keep Joe safe until he could get there. That his son would have the strength to fight against his captors and that Joe would not loose his own sense of belief that help would arrive.

Hoss could see his father's sorrow and sense of frustration. He didn't know how he could help the most, but with his large, but gentle hand, rested it on Ben's and then held his gaze for a few moments.

"Don't worry Pa, we will find him."

Adam smiled at his younger brother and knew that Hoss's enthusiasm was the best medicine for his father at present. They all had to believe that Joe would alright until they found him. He gave a brief wink to Hoss, in praise of his efforts, and appreciative that they needed to work together to find Joe.

* * *

As Seline and the carriage approached the railway station, Edwards had started to give more specific instructions about where to stop the horses. They knew that they would have to attempt to get Joe Cartwright aboard the train without being seen if possible.

Seline on the other hand, would need to make sure that the young fool Reynolds saw him boarding the train and assumed that everything was proceeding normally as any other day. That he was just another passenger boarding the train to the next destination.

Seline gave the orders to Edwards and Yeager that he would get young porter to open the carriage and then have the baggage being secured and loaded aboard the coach. He intended to board early himself, but have Joe taken aboard as close to the departure time as possible, to avoid any chance of the young man being spotted by acurious conductor.

Bonnie was Seline's tool at the moment. He had told her to smile sweetly at the porters and ticket officer to get them thinking more about her than what was happening around them.

Seline smiled to himself as he could see Reynold's nervous disposition as Bonnie approached his ticketing booth. The young man was struggling to loosen his collar and hide his awkwardness around such a lovely looking young woman.

"Hello," Bonnie whispered to him in a sweet, soft voice. Her dressed hugging her hips well and her bodice showing off her generous figure. Her blond hair was swept up in an elegant style, giving the appearance of upper-class sophistication.

"Good Day to you again, Mr Reynolds, this young lady will be my travelling companion on this journey," Seline said to Harvey. "I am afraid this weather is not quite what she is used to. If you don't mind, I would like to help her aboard as early as possible before the train leaves."

"C-certainly, M-miss," Reynolds stumbled over his words, reaching out to take Bonnie's hand and not really knowing what to do when she didn't extend the invitation to greet him in that fashion.

"Thank you, kind Sir," Bonnie cooed at him, fluttering her eyes at him and then turning to walk towards the train.

Almost tripping over his own feet in haste, Harvey snatched a set of keys that hung on a board in the office and raced out to open up the private carriage before them. Making sure that they were following him, wanting to ensure that they were well taken care of.

Once inside, Bonnie was a little surprised at the luxury and opulence that was offered before her. Struggling to keep up appearances, she ran her hand over the back of the velvet covered chair as if give her approval of the facilities.

"Very nice," Bonnie murmured, although Reynold's attention was more focused on Seline to see if everything was to his satisfaction.

Reynolds proceeded to give a tour of the other compartments, including the bedrooms. There were three. One for Yeager and Edwards, one for Seline and one for their captive. The rooms were very compact and small and the living quarters would be a little cramped for their journey, but that couldn't be helped.

'Could we have some iced water brought in by the waiter? Also some extra linen and towels?" Seline requested, stilling looking about the room.

"I will have it brought to you straight away, Sir," Reynolds responded. "If there is anything else you will be needing before departure, please let myself or one of the conductors know. The dining car will be ready for use as soon as the train has left the station."

"I trust all is in order for the moment, Sir?" Reynolds asked with a little nervousness creeping into his voice. Seline had still to utter an opinion, good or bad about the accommodations and Harvey did not have any other options should they not be suitable.

"For the moment," Seline replied without looking directly at the young ticket officer.

"I hope you enjoy your journey, Miss," Reynolds said as he departed the carriage, trying to do so without appearing rude and turning his back towards the young lady.

Bonnie gave him a grateful smile and then went into one of the rooms. She knew that they needed to get one of the beds prepared for the arrival of Joe Cartwright. No doubt Seline had pre-empted a little of what they needed in asking for the extra linen and towels a few moments ago.

"I'll stay here and wait for you to bring him in. Make sure you are not seen," Seline hissed at Yeager and Edwards, now focusing on getting his captive aboard as quickly as possible without any problems. Although a good enough alibi for later if questions should be asked, the platform proved a little more too public than he had first envisaged.

Bonnie pulled back the richly decorated quilt on the bed and smoothed the crisp white sheets. Seline now come in briefly with a large jug of ice water and informed her that there was a second ewer in the other living compartment should she need it.

Bonnie also took two of the white towels and two sheets. They would be able to get more, if needed, but would have to do so in smaller quantities to avoid any suspicions being drawn about the over-usage of the linen by train staff.

She had expected Seline to give her a lecture about what was expected of her during the train journey, but he had left soon after placing the jug on a table near the bed.

Sounds coming from the front of the compartment, indicating that Edwards and Yeager were only moments away from entering with the unconscious form of Joe.

"Problems?" Seline asked as Edwards and Yeager stood in entrance, with Joe Cartwright supported between them.

"Not yet, but there might be," Yeager answered, nodding with his head towards a loud conversation that could be heard happening between the young ticket officer and another female passenger.

The door to their apartment was closed and concealed the fact that they were listening, for which they were thankful. "Did she see you get on with Cartwright?"

"No," Edwards replied truthfully, "But she seems a little bit upset about not being given this apartment. She is demanding to know who is in here and why we can't be persuaded to give it over to her for another seat on the train," he explained, from what accusations he had heard from the woman.

* * *

Outside on the platform, Harvey Reynolds was quickly feeling out of his depth in being able to confront this head-strong woman and advise her that she could not have the private compartments which were already occupied.

"Where is your supervisor, young man. Or the Station Master. I demand to talk to them at once," the woman questioned him, poking him in the chest with an extended finger with each additional question.

"The Station Master is not here at the moment, Madam," he replied honestly enough.

"Unfortunately as I have told you, there is only one private compartment aboard this train to New Orleans. At the moment, another passenger has paid in advance and been offered these accommodations for the journey," Harvey explained.

"Who are these people you speak of. I haven't even seen anybody go in there. Can you be sure that they will turn up to board the train in time. The other seats aboard the train are inadequate. Surely you could ask them…."

"Oh, but I am sorry, Madam, I couldn't possibly do that. My apologies. The passenger is currently aboard the train already with his party. He has asked for privacy and in accordance with railway policy, I am not obliged to give out any personal details about them," Harvey said.

"Hmph," the woman scoffed, not believing that it was a part of railway policy at all,but not really having any other complaint that could assure her the private compartment. "Rest assured, I will speak to your Station Master on this matter."

"My husband is a very important man in this community, you know. Being treated no better than second class citizens," she murmured as she climbed aboard the first class carriages. They did not have sleeping compartments, but the seats were spaced further apart from each other and they were covered in plush velvet for comfort.

"I will pass on your complaints, Madam," Reynolds said through a forced smile. He couldn't wait until the ungrateful woman boarded the train and he wouldn't have to deal with her again.

After seeing that the luggage had been loaded correctly and all accounted for, Reynolds was just walking past all the compartment doors, ensuring they were securely locked. Ready to give the driver the signal to depart the station.

Something caught his eye just outside the private apartment of the lovely lady and Mr Seline. It was a tan hat. He picked it up and looked at it. He couldn't recall it being included Seline's luggage or his companions. The gentleman had worn a much grander black hat.

Must have come from one of the other passengers aboard the train, or perhaps one of the bystanders, waiting to wave goodbye. "Put it in the lost property box," he muttered to himself as he carried it away. It looked like a good hat and surely someone would notice it was missing and come looking for it.

Reynolds walked inside his office and hung the hat up on a peg behind him where a number of other disused hats sat, awaiting to be claimed. Little did he realise at the time that the hat would be the only clue to Joe's family that he had been at the train station at all. That one missing link or connection that could mean all the difference to their search.

Yeager and Edwards let out a collectively held breath as they heard the young ticket officer, Reynolds walk back to his office after dealing with the woman. They were pleased that he had been able to convince her that he couldn't interrupt anyone else's seat for her sake.

Seline had listened a few moments longer, ensuring that Reynolds had indeed walked away from the train. Because of the closed compartment door, he and the other two men did not see Harvey pick up Joe Cartwright's discarded tan hat. Neither did they notice that it was missing from his head as the young captive was now taken down the corridor towards a bed.

Seline sat down in one of the leather arm chairs and poured himself a brandy from the liquor bottles generously supplied with the private rooms. Yeager and Edwards took up seats in two slightly less formal chairs within the living area, awaiting their next instructions.

Soon after sitting down, the three of them heard the whistle from the train and an indistinct yell from the conductor to get the journey underway.

* * *

Bonnie had held onto the water jug for a moment, as the train jolted and jarred into movement on the tracks. Joe Cartwright had moved a little at the noise, his eyes still closed, but his body beginning to wake a little more.

"You need to be waking up soon, Mr Cartwright," Bonnie whispered, not expecting any answer from her patient. She took one of the smaller towels and dipped the corner in some of the cold water from the pitcher and began dabbing at his forehead and his cheeks. The fever was still present and hopefully the cool water would help greatly in bringing it back down under control.

Whether Joe Cartwright actually heard her words or not, Bonnie couldn't really be sure. The young man laying before her suddenly shifting, turning and rolling onto his side now that he was no longer restrained by shackles. His lips parts with a sigh as exhaled in his sleep.

Bonnie resumed her sponging routine, trying to cool his body temperature. His skin was hot and dry to the touch, though the colour was paled from when she had first seen him in the hotel in San Francisco. The lack of sunshine had not kept the bronze tone that had given his skin a lustre and shine a few weeks ago.

Bonnie took care of Joe Cartwright well into the night. Just when she thought the sponging and cool water were working, his temperature would spike a few degrees higher again and she would have to continue the rigorous routine. His sleep was restless, with frequent periods of tossing and turning. Caught in the midst of dreams.

Dawn was just beginning to shine through the curtains in the carriage windows, when she placed the sponge back into the bowl. The water was tepid enough to need replacing, but looking down at Joe's serene face as he slept, she thought they may just have turned a corner and that he may actually beginning to show signs of improvement.

Bonnie felt tired herself, brushing a few wisps of hair from her face. Seline knocked briefly on the door before walking in, looking down at his sleeping hostage. He was carrying a hot cup of tea which he offered to her. She gave a grateful smile in return, but her face still showed the slight sign of worry over Cartwright's health.

Seline was just to make another comment, when his attention was drawn towards the bed. Joe Cartwright was attempting to wake up, his eyes blinking quite a few times before opening. Neither he nor Bonnie said anything at first, allowing the young man to gain his bearings on his own.

Joe's green eyes looked very tired looking and bloodshot. As though it was taking all of his strength just to remain wake. He was clearly confused as he attempted to understand where he was. He turned his face towards the two figures he could see standing in the room. Their images were blurry and his head was pounding from a dreadful headache.

Seline and Bonnie watched as Joe winced in pain and brought his hand up to his head to signal the headache that was present. Bonnie poured some fresh, cool water in a glass and held it to his lips, urging him to take small, slow sips at first.

Joe did as she asked, watching her the whole time, trying to get his mind around who these people were. His brow furrowed deeper, as he tried harder to recall where he had seen this familiar face. But the pain in his head only increased, so intense to make him stop drinking from the glass and turn his head away and grimacing again.

"How are you feeling, Mr Cartwright?" Seline asked, standing beside the bed. His tone of voice indicated that as long as there were no long term effects or permanent damage, then he was indifferent about how much pain or discomfort his captive might be experiencing.

"What's happened?" Joe asked, barely recognizing his own voice. It sounded hoarse and was barely above a whisper. "I seem to have misplaced several hours," he grimaced as he shifted on the bed once more. "My arms and legs feel so heavy."

"Not hours, Mr Cartwright. You have been sleep for a few days," Seline informed him. "Unfortunate, but necessary."

Joe's mind was still clouded by the drug concoction he had been given. He tried hard to put his thoughts together, but that only made his headache reignite.

Seline could see Joe's difficulty in putting the words together and the battle he was still fighting to stay awake. "Bonnie, please see that Mr Cartwright enjoys a hot meal, something simple, like a hearty beef soup. Then allow him to go back to sleep."

"We will talk later, Joseph," Seline said, as he headed towards the doorway. Joe turned and watched him leave, his senses telling him that he should recognize the face, but the moment he could not recall having met the man at all.

A few minutes later, Bonnie was helping Joe with the soup that had been brought for him. He seemed to be enjoying the spicy taste, but his eyes were growing heavier and heavier. He would not be awake much longer.

Finally, Joe's hand fell limply from the soup ladle, no longer having the strength to hold onto the metal utensil. Bonnie decided to take pity on the young man and after moving the tray from his lap, aided him in laying down onto the bed in a more relaxed position. Joe never felt her gentle hands on his bare skin, checking again for any sign of unwelcome warmth now that the fever had broken.

* * *

About two hours later, Joe's alertness brought him out of his profoundly deep sleep. He blinked a number of times before opening his green eyes to a soft light within the room.

Cautiously he looked around and saw the young blond woman sleeping across the other side of the room. Her blond hair a little more out of place than it had been earlier, indicating she had been asleep for some time herself. Her back was facing towards Joe, so she did not notice him awake.

Joe lay still for a few moments, trying desperately again to gather his thoughts and work out where he was and why. And for the first time, reality hit him strongly as he felt the movement of the train.

Fear took control of him and he sat up abruptly, which he quickly regretted. The carriage was rattling from the tracks underneath. An occasional screech of metal on metal cutting through his nerves. The headache he had awoken to a couple of hours again had yet to fully subside, the noise from the train only causing it to remain longer.

Joe was berating himself harshly. He had no recollection of getting on a train, he had little if no recall of the young woman across the room sleeping. He had no idea where the train was taking him to. There seemed to be so many gaps between what he remembered and what he didn't and none of it was meshing together to make any sort of sense to him.

Little Joe decided he had to find out for himself what was going on and where he was travelling to. He threw the bedclothes back and swung his legs around over the edge of the bed. He was surprised to feel just how much exertion was required of his body to carry out such a simple task. He wasn't weak exactly, but his arms and legs were not co-operating with him or each other, making movement unsteady and ungainly.

The room was spinning a little as he forced his legs into a standing position, but it was not as bad as it had been earlier that day. As he run his hand through his tussled curls, his fingers came cross the jaggedness and still healing gash just inside his hairline. The wound that had come about as a result of the two blows from Seline and his henchman.

“Ouch," Joe whispered to himself as he carefully withdrew his hand from the area. The wound gave him a little bit more of an answer as to why his thoughts were so jumbled up and how he had come to loose so much time. He couldn't remember how such a gash had occurred. He couldn't recall falling down or being in any fight recently.

Cautiously, Joe put his hand on the doorknob to the small room and opened the door, ready to step into the corridor, not knowing that he was meant to be a prisoner. He found himself using his outstretched hand to steady himself and keep his balance as he made the few small and deliberate steps.

The walls were all made of a dark timber, causing the corridor to appear a little darker than the room he had just emerged from. He paused a minute to get his breath and figure out which direction to go in, when he could suddenly hear voices from one end of the corridor.

Perhaps the people belonging to these voices would be able to tell him where he was and why he found himself on a train. Joe's concentration on those speaking increased as he moved along the narrow hallway, the frown on his face deepening as the voice he was hearing began to seem familiar. Where had he heard it before?

"What are you going to do about Cartwright?" came the question, Joe not being able to see who asked from where he was standing.

"Play things cautiously for the moment," Seline answered Yeager, as he stood looking out the window of the train, calculating the next few steps in the journey.

What could the man mean? Joe asked himself, concluding that they were talking about him by mentioning the name Cartwright. What did the man intend to do cautiously?

At the same time as a hundred questions ran through his brain, the voice became more recognizable. Like someone had just told him the answer to the question. A series of images flashed through his mind.

In his mind he could see a street but didn't know which town. There were large buildings along the roadway, a lot taller and grander than Virginia City. And then, just as crisp and clear, the voice he had heard a few moment ago echoed in his head again.

_"Because I told them what it was,"_ came the voice.

Joe could suddenly recall the voice and then a few mumbled words. Then all he could remember was a flash of pain and darkness descending on him. These had been the men on that street. What events had occurred after then were still a blur, but the pieces were slowly beginning to fall into place.

* * *

With a surge of anger coursing through him, Joe tensed his muscles, and willed himself to walk forward and demand to know what was going on from these people and why he was here on this train.

Seline had been surprised when he heard the approaching footsteps. Yeager and Edwards who had been seated on the sofa, turned also, and couldn't believe that Cartwright was standing in the corridor, a strained expression on his face.

"Sit down, Mr Cartwright, before you fall down," Seline said calmly and firmly, giving Yeager and Edwards a small wave of his hand to indicate that they were to help him make it to the sofa.

"Get away from me," Joe growled, but his body was protesting and beginning to falter, which Seline could sense. The train suddenly lurched for a brief second, almost causing Joe to loose his balance.

"I want to know…," was all he managed to speak before he felt the strong grip of Yeager and Edwards on either arm, guiding him into the living compartment. With a soft thud he was dumped onto the sofa unceremoniously.

Joe immediately tried to get to his feet again but instantly felt a restraining hand from Yeager on his shoulder, forcing him back down on the sofa. He gave a scowl in return, but also grimaced at the headache that had come back from the sudden activity.

"I suggest you rest while you can, Joseph. You have been recovering from a head injury," Seline said. Joe reacting by feeling for the area and wincing at the slight pain he felt and the swelling he could detect underneath his fingertips.

'You were the man I met that day on the street…," Joe said, but he lowered his head as the headache became worse.

"You have a good memory," Seline said with contempt in his voice.

"Who are you?" Joe asked, his temper beginning to mount with every second that passed without the answers he was seeking.

"Who I am is of little importance right now, Joseph."

"Joe will do just fine."

"What _I want_ is important. And I will not let you or anybody else disturb the plans that I have carefully laid out."

"And what do _you_ want?"

Seline thought about his response for a moment. Should he tell the young man everything he planned to do or merely hide the real truth?

Seline turned around to face Joe and sat in an elaborate arm chair adjacent to where his prisoner was seated on the sofa.

"Who is your father, Joseph?"

Little Joe thought the question odd at first, until he saw the disdain on the man's face as he mentioned the word _"father"_.

"Ben Cartwright," Joe replied quickly, both defending his family honour but at the same time being proud to call himself a part of such a well known family.

"Yes, the high and mighty, Benjamin Cartwright," Seline repeated through clenched teeth. "A man that thinks himself above everybody else and cares nothing for the lives and feelings of others that he destroys along the way."

"Now wait just a minute…," Joe said as his temper flared and he stood up, "If you think I am just going to let you speak that way about my father, than…..," but Joe was forced to sit back down again as his legs threatened to betray him.

"Let me ask you this, Joseph," Seline said, getting up from the chair and gazing out the window, trying to heighten the air of mystery that was still present within the room about the young man's fate.

"How much do you know about your father's life before the Ponderosa? How much do you know about his relationship and marriage to your mother, Marie?"

"My mother?" Joe said, by now totally confused about the direction of the conversation. First the man was attacking his father's good and hard earned reputation. Now he was making of his mother, and there was no way that Joe was going to have her name soiled by a stranger who barely knew her.

"Your mother, who was the most gentle flower to walk upon this earth. Willing to show her kindness and affection for others even when they didn't ask for it," Seline said as his mind drifted back in time to when he had time along with Marie.

"She was the most lovely woman I had ever had the fortune to meet. With the demise of her first husband, she was crying out for attention and to be loved as she deserved to be. I could have given her that. Given her a luxurious lifestyle and all the wealth she could have ever desired," Seline continued with a touch of bitterness.

"Then Benjamin Cartwright had to show up and things began to change. Marie's personality changed. She was no longer the quiet young woman that desired to have a strong man controlling her life. Marie began showing signs of rebelliousness and defiance."

"My father didn't force her to become like that. My mother was always strongly independent and head-strong. She spoke her opinion and didn't back down from anyone trying to run her life the way she didn't want to live it," Joe denied hotly.

"Then she tells me one day that she planned to marry Ben Cartwright and travel over 2000 miles to live in an inhospitable territory and carve a homestead out of the landscape with their bare hands. Away from the sanctuary and comfort that she had known. Separated from family and friends and severing all ties to a lifestyle she had been accustomed to for many years."

"My mother loved my father and had a wonderful life in Nevada on the Ponderosa," Joe said, defending his mother's choices. She would have never stayed with the likes of you. A man to tell her when to do this and that, with no real position in life but to hang off your arm as a trophy. A prize to be shown around but never fully to experience life because you didn't want her to."

"I watched your mother and father for many years. Without them knowing. Seeing your mother have to work hard to make your brothers accept her."

"You don't know anything about my family, especially about my brothers, and you certainly don't know anything about my mother. You don't understand anything about her if you wanted to lock her away like a bird in a glass cage."

"On the contrary Joseph, I know everything about your family." Seline answered, turning and facing him up close for the first time. He could see that the conversation was beginning to unmask Joe's emotions. He wanted to be able to invoke a whole kaleidoscope at will, from happiness, to sadness to outright anger and rage.

"And then there was that tragic accident, and Marie life was taken," Seline said, noting that Joe's emerald green eyes misting up to the memory of his mother's death. "Was it really an accident, or something more convenient for your father?"

"Why you…," Joe yelled, by now his chest heaving as he was driven by pure unadulterated rage at such a statement. He drew back his fist and was about was about to deliver any blow he could to such a despicable man, but his arms were quickly restrained from behind by Yeager and Edwards.

Both of them were surprised with how much the weakened young man fought and struggled against them. Joe could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His eyes were stinging from the tears of frustration and the anger he felt.

"Your not even good enough to speak her name," Joe spat at Seline. His words were not well taken though and he almost took a step back as he saw his tormentor take a step forward.

A resounding slap could he heard as Seline used his open hand to strike Joe hard across the side of his face. "You will soon learn the consequences of your words, Joseph.

"Just like your mother. I would have tamed the rebellious spirit within her too, just like I will her impudent young son."

"You would have controlled her by beating her when she didn't agree with you. What kind of love do you call that?" Joe said, barely able to talk civilised to the man who had wanted to strike his mother.

"For your father's act of betrayal, you will remain by guest," Seline stated.

"Guest or prisoner?" Joe demanded.

"Whichever way you wish to call it. But you _will_ remain until I have been satisified that your father's debt is repaid."

"And what would be your price?" Joe asked, knowing that Seline must have been counting on his father to pay a ransom for his return.

Seline delayed as long as possible to reply to this question. Whilst still being restrained by Yeager and Edwards, Joe was forced to wait for an answer while Seline walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured a brandy.

Over the rim of the glass, Seline smiled as he saw Joe's temper getting the better of him once more. He had been told a lot about the infamous temper of Joe Cartwright and his often impulsive and impetuous nature.

"Yes, just like your mother, Marie, again Joseph," Seline said to himself.

The ice in Seline's drink tinkered against the side of the glass, infuriating Joe even more as he attempted again to break free of the iron grip from his assailants.

"What was the promised price?" Joe shouted.

"Benjamin Cartwright's life," Seline said plainly.

"You can't do that, it will be murder," Joe said, trying to be brave, but inwardly believing that this man was capable of such a hideous crime. "I won't let you do it."

"And your going to stop me?" Seline said with a chuckle.

"If I have to," Joe promised. "My brothers wouldn't let you get anywhere near my father to harm him."

"Maybe I will just have to kill them too, to make sure they don't interfere."

"Over my dead body," Joe declared.

"That, my young foolish friend, has already been assured," Seline stated.

* * *

Joe could feel his body protesting against him once more. The physical battle against Seline was nothing compared with the emotional torture and mental anguish that he was enduring.

"Yeager, Edwards, return Mr Cartwright to his room, and this time, make sure that he is properly restrained. And you may need to gag him to keep him quiet. We will be approaching a station soon and taking on new passengers. We don't want to risk anyone hearing him calling for help," Seline instructed his henchmen.

Although completely unprepared, Joe saw this as his one and possibly only opportunity to get away from his captors. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Seline not far away, but behind him was the compartment door which in theory should lead to other carriages on the train and hopefully help.

Joe knew couldn't afford to get this wrong. Without warning, he slumped his shoulders and allowed his balance to become unsteady. It had the desired effect as Yeager and Edwards were taken by surprise, having to alter their grip to keep the young hostage upright in their grasp.

"What's wrong with him?" Yeager began to ask as he and Edwards looked to their employer for answers.

Joe went one step further and allowed his eyes to roll up in his head and collapsing to the ground as though in a dead faint. He lay limply on the floor whilst Seline dropped his glass in surprise and was about to walk over and monitor his condition. Maybe he had pushed the young man too far after waking up.

With one almighty kick outwards, Joe managed to catch Edwards in the groin, causing the man to double over and fall to his knees in great pain. A roar of horror and outrage came from Yeager as he tried to grab a hold of Joe as he attempted to scramble to his feet.

Joe had enough knowledge of dirty fighting from night's at the ' _Bucket O' Blood'_ saloon to catch the man unawares and deliver a stunning blow to his chin before making to his feet and racing towards the door that would lead to the other compartments on the train.

"He is getting away!" Seline shouted in frustration, as his two henchmen were put out of action. "Do I have take care of everything myself?"

Edwards was trying to get on his feet, with his hand shielding the injured area and a grimace of pain on his face. Edwards was angry had every intention of extracting some pain for himself in return.

"Come here you little…." Yeager shouted, who was the first to be able to make a grab for the escapee.

Seline was still in the way and posed the biggest threat to Joe's escape attempt. Thinking quickly, the young man made use of some nearby furniture and toppled a nearby dark-stained table. On top of the table had been an ornate crystal vase spilled with water. As the table lost it balance, so too did the vase, the water pouring out and then the glass shattering on one corner as it struck the floor.

The obstruction of the table was just what Joe had been looking for as a distraction and allowed him that one moment to get past Seline. Almost anyway.

Seline had tried his best to trip the young man's feet as he tried to regain his own footing and dodge the table. His suit jacket had come off worst, now soaked with the majority of the water from the vase.

Joe managed to reach the door, but in his haste, fumbled with the brass door handle that lead from the private compartment to the rest of the train. In the few seconds that he tried in frustration to get the door open, Edwards and Yeager were only a step behind Seline, and almost within reaching distance of Joe.

There was a small gap between the carriages. A compartment with doors to each carriage and one on the side for easy access for the conductor from the outside of the train when not in motion.

Joe had scrambled out the door, not daring to look back at where his captors were. Seline on the other hand, knew that he had to stop Joe from reaching the other passengers or attracting their attention if possible. If they were aware of his presence aboard the train, they could reveal to anyone asking the wrong kinds of questions later.

Seline realised that swift and decisive action was required and with the limited time and space before Joe reached the safety of the second carriage, he brought his pistol out from his holster and held it slightly aloft.

Joe's concentration had solely been on reaching the second carriage, with his hand on the other brass door handle and preparing to open it. Without warning, a staggering blow was delivered to the same spot that had rendered him unconscious in the alley in San Francisco .

He didn't lose consciousness immediately, but was driven to his knees, giving a cry of pain and reaching immediately for the affected area. Still using his remaining adrenaline levels, with one hand over the wound and blood beginning to show between his fingers, Joe groped again for the brass door handle.

Seline was not quick enough from preventing the confused and swaying young man from entering the second carriage without making other aware of what had happened. He would have to change roles for a minute and appear as the concerned family member trying to prevent the young man from injuring himself further.

* * *

Joe stepped into the next compartment, but found his vision somewhat unfocused and unable to distinguish clearly whether there were any other passengers nearby that would come to his aid. He thought he could hear voices, but they sounded distant and he couldn't really work out what they were saying.

Joe had managed to walk another three steps, coming to the fourth row of seats before he fell to his knees again and squeezed his eyes shut against the pain inside his head that was growing in intensity. The blood had now run through his fingers and was clearly visible on the side of his face.

"Oh, you poor young man," came the voice from an older woman seated against the right hand window. She hadn't heard the young man enter the compartment, but was shocked and surprised to see him collapse to his knees and see the amount of blood about the gash on his head.

"Let me help you," the woman said, trying to take a gentle grasp of Joe's arm to steady his balance a little. "What is your name? Who are you travelling with?"

Joe could hear a voice talking to him, but it was growing softer and softer compared to a roaring sound that was getting louder and louder inside his head. He tried to raise his head to see who had a hold of his arm, but his grip on consciousness slipped further away and he held on with a thin thread.

"Thank you Madam," came Seline's voice from behind. "I thank you for finding my son before he could do himself more harm."

"You are his father?" the woman eyed him suspiciously, a little startled by his appearance behind her. "How does he come to have this head injury? It doesn't appear that you are watching him too carefully."

"My name Dubois and this is my son Joseph. Unfortunately he was involved in an accident a few days ago where he sustained a head injury. We come to be on this train, travelling to seek medical attention for him. I had turned by attention away briefly to attend to his bed when he tried to walk from the safety of our carriage," Seline explained.

"Hmm, I suppose that could happen," the woman said, looking back down at Joe who was growing more and more limp by the minute. "I trust you will give him the best care now. He seems such a handsome young man. It would be a shame to see any further harm to him."

"I couldn't agree more, Madam, and we are extremely grateful for your vigilance. Joseph needs complete rest and the best medical treatment which I will ensure he gets once we arrive at our destination. If you will excuse me, I will get his two uncles to help me carry him back to our private compartment," Seline said.

The woman looked disdainfully at Edwards and Yeager as they took a hold of Joe, trying to appear the kind and loving family members. She had seen the generous head of curls on the young man and saw the strong jaw line and handsome features. She was concerned that the head injury might be worse than these men suspected, but didn't think it her place to interfere in family affairs.

Just as Edwards and Yeager entered their own apartment with Seline following behind, Joe lost his tenuous hold on consciousness and felt his senses spiral away into complete darkness, away from the pain that was assaulting him.

Bonnie had appeared at the doorway to Joe's room as they returned, not aware of the conversation that had taken place between Joe and Seline and the escape attempt. She gasped in shock and horror at the fresh blood that was still trickling down his slack face and winced at seeing the re-opened wound just under his hairline.

"You will be needed in here with some water and towels," Seline muttered on his way into the room, still mulling over what ramifications Joe's escape attempt might have on the entire kidnap operation. Hopefully the old bat that had seen him would believe the story as given and wouldn't think more of it. She had not seen Joe long enough to notice anything specific about Cartwright except the fresh wound on his scalp.

* * *

By the time Bonnie had returned with the water and towels, Joe had been laid on the bed and Seline was examining his handy work, touching lightly at the gash on the young man's scalp.

"How does it look?" Bonnie asked, already sure that it had become a much more serious injury than what Joe had sustained in the alleyway. The stitches that had been carefully sewn by the doctor in San Francisco were now unrecognisable and the skin surrounding the wound had begun to swell again from the fresh blow.

"I don't really know," Seline was forced to admit as he eyed the wound with dismay.

All the effort he had put into this operation might have been for nothing if Joe Cartwright didn't recover from the blow he had dealt. He hadn't meant to strike the young man in the same place as before, merely to prevent his imminent escape.

"Its bleeding quite freely," Bonnie said as she sat on the side of the bed and began to dab lightly with a moistened cloth at the gash. Joe moaned and tried to turn his head away from the pain, but did not awake.

"That's not good," she remarked, noticing the lack of response and the sound only been drawn out from the young man because of the pain he was experiencing sub-consciously.

"How long until we reach New Orleans ?" Yeager asked Seline. "Maybe we need to get a doc for him again."

"It certainly looks that way, but we cannot do that until we reach our destination. We will just have to do what we can until tomorrow afternoon and he is moved to the paddle boat. I will contact a doctor I know and he can examine Cartwright more," Seline answered.

"Maybe it looks worse that it really is," Edwards piped in, not wanting to be left out of the conversation.

"Perhaps with rest he will be much improved by the time we reach New Orleans," Seline said, not really believing his own words. Even from a non-medical point of view he could see that Joe Cartwright would be suffering the effects of this injury for quite a few days to come. What the long term effects were going to be was yet to be seen.

"Lets allow Bonnie to make Mr Cartwright more comfortable and tend to his injuries," Seline instructed the other two men, ushering them out of the small room.

Bonnie gave him a small fake smile as they left, but didn't feel very confident that she could do very much at all to help Joe Cartwright. How long he would remain unconscious was yet to be seen.

After the other men left, she did her best ease his pain. She removed his shirt, with no co-operation from her patient. Joe never showed any signs of feeling her touch or her administrations.

The bleeding was beginning to slow, which was a welcome sign, but from the look of his facial features, it was clear that Joe appeared to be slipping into a deeper form of unconsciousness rather than beginning to show signs of improvement.

His head lolled to one side on the pillow, staining the pillow slightly, but the rest of his body remaining relaxed. Bonnie continued to dress the fresh wound as best she could, remembering what she had seen the doctor in San Francisco do. She didn't want to risk infection and covered the area with a small gauze pad, but not overly tight, allowing sufficient air flow to aid in the reduction of the swelling.

Once she had covered him enough with a light quilt and checked his breathing was regular, Bonnie left the room for a short time, preparing to return for the long night vigil that was going to be necessary to monitor his condition for the remainder of the journey to New Orleans .

Seline was standing near the door when she came out, an anxious look in his eyes that she was quite unaccustomed to. He seemed actually concerned for Joseph's welfare. Whether it be for his own benefit or advantage at a later date was unknown, but he appeared nervous and was looking to her for a diagnosis.

"He is still unconscious, and I think its deepening," she admitted honestly. "I have dressed it as best as I can, but he had better not be left alone for the remainder of the journey and he will need to have a doctor take a look at him as soon as possible," Bonnie informed Seline.

"Just do what you can to keep him alive," Seline muttered and then removed himself from the doorway and walked back into the living area of the private apartment, still looking nervous about the future outcome.

* * *

A cloud of dust signalled the departure of the stage the Ben and his two sons, Adam and Hoss had been travelling on for two and a half days. Ben tried the best he could to stretch some of the travel out of his tired and stiff muscles.

Adam and Hoss were taking in the new buildings that surrounded them and deciding together which of them would help them gain some information on Joe.

"Rough trip huh, Pa?" Hoss asked Ben noticing the tiredness on his father's face. A deep fatigue that didn't come from lack of sleep or hard work, but from the worry and concern that he carried for the safety of his youngest son.

"Sure was Hoss, but lets not linger here any longer than we have to," Ben said as he started to walk towards the stage depot. He wanted talk to the clerk inside and gain as much information as possible about how Joe may have travelled once arriving here in Sacramento .

"Did you want to get a bite to eat first, Pa?" Adam asked, not worried about himself or Hoss, but hoping any small distraction for their father would help him deal with Joe's disappearance.

"No thanks, Adam. I don't think I could stomach food after that stage ridge today," he replied honestly. Though part of him was just like his sons suspected and wanting more to focus on finding Joe than doing anything else.

The three Cartwright's approached the small wooden counter of the stage depot. The office itself was no more bigger than a small shed. There was a young girl serving behind the counter and sorting mail into shelves of pigeon holes behind her.

"Good-day Gentlemen, can I help you?" she asked politely, drawn to Adam's handsome face. She smiled sweetly at him and kept her gaze directed at him rather than Ben.

Adam thought because of this it might be best if he asked the questions. Save having his father repeat them twice because of her attention being directed towards himself.

"Miss, my name is Adam Cartwright. Together with my father and brother here, we arrived a few minutes ago on the stage from San Francsico. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to tell us about the fastest method of transport out of this town?"

"Leaving so soon?" the girl asked shyly, her mind repeating his name over and over, deciding if it suited him. "Where would be wanting to go to?" was her question to Adam.

Adam looked to Ben for some suggestions, knowing that they were all just guessing and grasping at straws as to what fate might have befallen Joe after arriving in Sacramento.

The young girl saw their expressions and realised that they were anxious about something. She offered what she could.

"If it was me trying to get out of here, the first place to go to would be New Orleans. Supposed to be and exciting city, full of restaurants and theatres. I have even heard you can see live shows in some of them," she said excitedly with a touch of wishing in her blue eyes.

Ben thought about the answer for a moment and what he knew of Seline and how that might determine his movements. "Yes, that would be a good choice?" he said, not giving away what his reasons were for agreeing with her suggestion. The more he thought about Marie and Seline's involvement in Joe's disappearance, the more he was convinced that there would be a logical trail to follow.

"Well now, if it be New Orleans you would want to be going to, then the best way to go would be by train. Only takes about three days and the have a dining car too," the girl informed them.

"Thank you, Miss, you have been most helpful. Now if you would just direct us in the right direction for the train station, please?" Ben thanked the young woman.

"You need to go down the left hand side of the street over there for about four blocks and then turn to the left again. There is a large sign on the roof of the station house and the platform is on the other side. The is a porter there I know by the name of Harvey. He should be able to help you with any ticket information that you need and travel times."

Ben bid her good-bye and the three of them left, leaving the young woman to watch longingly after Adam as he departed. Good looking men never stayed in this town very long she sighed and then went back to her mail sorting.

* * *

Adam led the way as the trio made their way over to the left-hand side of the street and walked the three block like they had been instructed. They didn't have too much trouble finding the train station from her description.

It was a little bit further away then she had said, but perhaps her judgment of distance was not the same as theirs. The station was towards one end of town where the railway track exited the town. There were very few houses in the area, a few stables nearby and a Chinese laundry, but no shops or stores.

When they entered the station to find the platform, they were surprised with how quiet it was. There didn't seem to be many passengers about at all. They didn't know when the next train was due to leave, but judging from what they could see, not any time soon.

There was a sign over a door that read ' _Ticket Office'_ and this is the window and counter that they approached, remembering the name of the fellow that the young woman had mentioned.

"Good day to you, gentlemen," Harvey Reynolds greeted them, a little surprised to see people in the station on a day like today. He wasn't expecting to see any passengers until tomorrow morning when the next train was due to leave for New Orleans .

"Hello, my name is Hoss Cartwright and we wus told to ask for somebody by the name of …," Hoss introduced himself to the young man. He had forgotten the name and was looking at his older brother Adam for help.

" Harvey ?" Adam answered. "A young woman at the stagecoach depot said to speak to someone here by that name about a train to New Orleans ."

"I could certainly try, Sir, but the next train doesn't depart from here for New Orleans until 8 a.m. tomorrow morning," the ticketing clerk advised.

"When did the last train leave?" Adam asked immediately, trying to piece together any clues that might be found through the tangle of words they had been given since getting off from the stage.

"Left day afore yesterday, seen it off myself and all. That's my job to do that. To make sure that all the passengers get aboard safely," Harvey puffed proudly.

"And I am sure you do it well, but I am looking for one passenger only. My brother, Joe Cartwright," Adam replied, hoping the mention of a name might help aid his memory.

"Joe Cartwright?" Harvey repeated, thinking about the names he had seen on the passenger lists. "Can't rightfully remember seeing anybody by that name. And I remember most everyone that gets on these trains."

Ben had been strangely quiet for most of this conversation, trusting that Adam would ask the right questions. His gaze had been drawn to the station as he looked about taking in the fixtures and the quaint little quirks that made it recognizable as a train station. There were ashtrays along the wall for cigar ash, shaped into carriages and joined together like a train.

Ben had looked back towards the ticket office as Adam mentioned his brother's name, hoping there would be some change in the young man's expression that would give them hope that he had some information. His hopes had been crushed slightly when Harvey had responded that he couldn't remember anybody by that name.

But just then, something caught Ben's attention. Almost taking his breathe away as he looked at it …..

"Adam," Ben interrupted, but whispering his son's name and pointing at what he saw.

Hoss followed his father's pointing finger and gasped out loud at the sight of his little brother's hat hanging on a peg in the office. Just as polite as you please. As if it was waiting by the credenza back at the Ponderosa, for his owner to claim him before heading out the door and starting work.

"Can we look at that hat, please" Adam asked, his mouth going a little dry at the possibility of such a good stroke of luck. Something that had been sadly lacking on their part up until now. Maybe this was just the break they were looking for.

Adam took it in his hands and turned it over once or twice, before giving it to Ben's anxious and outstretched hands.

"This is his," Ben said, barely keeping his emotions inside. His fingers ran along the familiar brim of the hat as thought recognizing the face of an old friend. He would have known this hat anywhere he told himself.

"This is Joseph's hat!"

"It sure looks like it is," Hoss agreed. He had seen Joe put that hat on back home a hundred times and had never given the slightest thought that it might be the one item of clothing that would identify his brother.

"W-where did you get this?" Ben asked, a little afraid of the answer he would receive.

The hat had been hanging on the peg like it was lost property. The fabric and condition of the hat gave no real indication of when Joe might have worn it last.

"Funny you should ask that," Harvey said, thinking these people were getting a little over-excited about a minor article that had been left behind on the platform. "I found that just laying on the platform over there right after that train left for New Orleans ."

"Did you see anyone getting on the train that was wearing it, or might have lost it?" Adam asked, trying not to sound impatient.

"No, like I said, I found it after the train started down the track. It looked like a good hat, so I kept it. Thought someone might have come back to claim it after noticing it missing," Harvey said.

"I have a list of the passengers on the train, but like I told a lady the other day, its railway policy not to divulge any information about the other passengers. I would get into trouble and possibly lose my job."

"We understand, Harvey ," Ben commented. "But you have to understand that this hat is the only clue we have at the moment to my son who we believed has been kidnapped by a very bad fellow. We have been trying to follow them since San Francisco. We think my son might have been injured so that makes our search even more desperate."

Harvey 's expression changed slightly but enough for the Cartwright family to think he might have further information. Reynolds thought back to the young man he had seen being carried onto the train.

"What did you see?" Hoss demanded, not wanting Harvey to dodge the question. "You need to tell us what you know."

"Did you see who was carrying him, or travelling with him?" Ben asked with hope renewed of fresh leads to Joseph's whereabouts.

"Sorry, but I didn't see anybody get aboard with that hat on. I had trouble with an older lady who wanted to argue about the private compartments.

"Joseph was here," Ben said firmly, "I don't know how, but he was definitely here."

Adam and Hoss nodded their heads, believing their father.

"You have tickets aboard the train for New Orleans tomorrow morning?" Hoss asked the clerk.

"Y-yes," Reynolds answered truthfully.

"Then start writing them up, because there are going to be three more passengers," Hoss remarked and started urging him back to complete the necessary paperwork.

Adam and Ben stood where they were for a few minutes, trying to tie this new information to what they had learned so far about Joe's disappearance.

"He is not getting away with this," Ben said, his brown eyes set hard and his face serious.

"He is not getting away with my son," he added and strode off sharply towards the ticket office, ready to get everything prepared for the train journey in the morning to New Orleans .

New Orleans was a city that left both good and bitter-sweet memories for Ben. He had met Marie and she had become his wife, giving him a son called _Joseph_. He would not allow Seline to destroy the relationship that he had with his son. One that had been carved out of respect, truth, honesty and most of all love.

* * *

Back on-board the train, it was well into the night and early morning before Joe Cartwright groaned in pain, showing some signs of regaining consciousness. For Bonnie, it was nothing short of relief.

She had watched and prayed over him all night, keeping him as comfortable as possible and tending to his injury as best she could, but not knowing what else to do to bring him around and back to consciousness.

Joe allowed his thoughts to come back to him a little more before attempting to open his eyes. Inside, his skull was pounding from an incredibly powerful headache. Even his hair seemed to hurt.

He tried to reach up with one hand to the most painful area, but found that his co-ordination was hampered. His limbs felt strange, not heavy, but a tingling sensation that he was unaccustomed to.

The pain was growing worse, causing him to groan even louder. He attempted to turn his head away from the source, but this only incurred fresh stabs of pain from the movement.

Joe tried to relax his body a little more and give himself a little more time. But the longer he lay there with his head pounding, the more agitated he was beginning to feel.

He tried to form a few images about where he was, but nothing familiar came. He couldn't remember what the last thing he had been doing. He didn't know what time of day it was. He tried something more basic, his name.

But this was were the real panic began to set in.

He furrowed his brow together to recall the answer, but all that remained was a blankness and the thundering headache. He couldn't remember his name.

With this thought, the alarm was beginning to grow more, and he attempted to open his eyes and find the answers that way. But the light assaulted his eyes immediately, making them shut them and squeeze them together again tightly, trying to block the waves of pain that resulted.

A few tears of frustration ran down his race as he laid back against the pillow and tried to remember his name. He put together a small sentence, "Who am I?" which sent Bonnie scurrying from the room looking for Seline.

In the brief time that Bonnie was gone from the room, afraid for the confusion the young man was demonstrating and the question that Joe Cartwright had asked.

Bonnie had given Seline the barest of outlines at to Joe's mental state, saying that Joe didn't remember who he was. Seline had scoffed at it being a stunt and had strode into the room, prepared to give the young Cartwright a lesson after his escape attempt.

Joe opened his eyes again, still squinting at the harshness of the light and swallowing hard to cope with the relentless pain in his head. He couldn't put any coherent thought together that would give him any kind of explanation to his current situation.

Seline came and stood by the bed, fully prepared to be a sceptic and to make Cartwright reveal that he was faking the symptoms that Bonnie had explained.

"Come now, Joseph, you don't expect me to believe this little performance do you?" Seline asked.

Joe had started a little at the voice, not hearing anybody approaching. He had tried to focus on the face talking to him, but it held no familiarity either. He couldn't put a name to the well-dressed gentlemen at all, or how he came to know him.

"Who are you?" Joe asked, closing his eyes again briefly. He was tiring quickly and didn't wish to deal with the pain and confusion any longer. He wanted the darkness to come and take him again so he didn't have to ask questions that seemed to have no answer.

A resounding snap could be heard as Seline slapped Joe across the face without warning. Joe had yelped at the slap and looked back at the man with shock and surprise, but still no idea as to the reason for being struck.

"I promise you more of the same if you wish to play these foolish games, Joseph." Seline said in a cold voice.

"Who is Joseph?" he asked not realising the man had been talking about himself. He didn't really care at the moment, he just didn't want to deal with any of it while the pain was so bad.

Seline had raised his hand in frustration, ready to deliver the second blow, but held his hand in mid-air as he watched the young man close his eyes and fall back to sleep.

He still thought the stunt a ploy, but something in Joe's eyes as he had rubbed at the redness on his cheek, made him stop and think a little. There had been a look of uncertainty and one of fear.

_Surely the boy could remember his own name?_

To be continued…..

  
  


**Author Notes:** The distances and places are totally made up as are the various modes of transportation, so please just believe them as they are for the sake of the story.

_Dubois_ is the name I have used for Marie's maiden name. I believe this may not be entirely correct, but now I had used it once, I will have to stick with that for the remainder of the story. It does play a significant part in the story as you will see later.

There are still little clues all the time for future things that will happen or things that have already happened that will be left for Ben and the others further down the storyline.

I don't want to update for the sake of updating. I want the story to flow well and for readers to be able to follow it with some logic and enjoy reading it.

Please let me know what you think so far.

Thanks for reading

  
  


Jules

  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: The distances and places are totally made up as are the various modes of transportation, so please just believe them as they are for the sake of the story.
> 
> DUBOIS is the name I have used for Marie's maiden name. I believe this may not be entirely correct, but now I had used it once, I will have to stick with that for the remainder of the story. It does play a significant part in the story as you will see later.
> 
> There are still little clues all the time for future things that will happen or things that have already happened that will be left for Ben and the others further down the story line. 
> 
> I don't want to update for the sake of updating. I want the story to flow well and for readers to be able to follow it with some logic and enjoy reading it.
> 
> Please let me know what you think so far. 
> 
> Thanks for reading
> 
> Jules


	6. Questions Without Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story deals with Joe's wanting to be seen as grown up and able to make decisions on his own about his future. Understandably his family are a little concerned at how Joe plans to deal with his idea of responsibility.
> 
> Ben Cartwright has always taught his sons certain values that made them into the proud men they are today. Someone from Ben's past wanting to seek revenge plans to take all of those values and the special bond forged between Ben and Joe and tear them apart.

**RIVERBOAT GAMBLER**

**By Jules  
**

**Chapter Six – Questions Without Answers**

****Author Notes:**** This story deals with Joe's wanting to be seen as grown up and able to make decisions on his own about his future. Understandably his family are a little concerned at how Joe plans to deal with his idea of responsibility.

Ben Cartwright has always taught his sons certain values that made them into the proud men they are today. Someone from Ben's past wanting to seek revenge plans to take all of those values and the special bond forged between Ben and Joe and tear them apart.

I hope you enjoy the next chapter of this saga:

_how the end of the last chapter:_

Bonnie had given Seline the barest of outlines at to Joe's mental state, saying that Joe didn't remember who he was. Seline had scoffed at it being a stunt and had strode into the room, prepared to give the young Cartwright a lesson after his escape attempt.

Joe opened his eyes again, still squinting at the harshness of the light and swallowing hard to cope with the relentless pain in his head. He couldn't put any coherent thought together that would give him any kind of explanation to his current situation.

Seline came and stood by the bed, fully prepared to be a sceptic and to make Cartwright reveal that he was faking the symptoms that Bonnie had explained.

"Come now, Joseph, you don't expect me to believe this little performance do you?" Seline asked.

Joe had started a little at the voice, not hearing anybody approaching. He had tried to focus on the face talking to him, but it held no familiarity either. He couldn't put a name to the well-dressed gentlemen at all, or how he came to know him.

"Who are you?" Joe asked, closing his eyes again briefly. He was tiring quickly and didn't wish to deal with the pain and confusion any longer. He wanted the darkness to come and take him again so he didn't have to ask questions that seemed to have no answer.

A resounding slap could be heard as Seline slapped Joe across the face without warning. Joe had yelped at the slap and looked back at the man with shock and surprise, but still no idea as to the reason for being struck.

"I promise you more of the same if you wish to play these foolish games, Joseph," Seline said in a cold voice.

"Who is Joseph?" he asked not realising the man had been talking about himself. He didn't really care at the moment, he just didn't want to deal with any of it while the pain was so bad.

Seline had raised his hand in frustration, ready to deliver the second blow, but held his hand in mid-air as he watched the young man close his eyes and fall back to sleep. He still thought the stunt a ploy, but something in Joe's eyes as he had rubbed at the redness on his cheek, made him stop and think a little.

There had been a look of uncertainty and one of fear. Surely the boy could remember his own name?

_now the page turns and the story continues …._

Seline sat at the table, drink poured, but left untouched as he tried to go over what he had just seen in the other room.

On the face of it, Joe Cartwright appeared to be playing an elaborate game of charades. But there was a small part of him that thought perhaps the young man was not merely acting. Bonnie had clearly thought something more serious wrong with him, and that had been evident in her actions and clearly written on her face.

Seline remembered the conversation he had held with Bonnie about getting a new doctor to examine Cartwright when they arrived in New Orleans. It looked like it was time to make such arrangements, but in addition to examining the physical wounds inflicted, making a diagnosis on any long-term effects of the blows he had sustained.

Seline called Yeager, Edwards and Bonnie together to tell them of the decisions he had made about how to move Cartwright from the train once they reached New Orleans.

"We will wait for the other passengers to get off," Seline instructed them, still seated at the table. "Once the coast is clear and there aren't so many witnesses, we will move young Mr Cartwright to the steam boat. Everything there is in order."

"But I thought you were going to get a doctor to look at him," Bonnie blurted out.

"Calm yourself, my dear," Seline said, giving her a sly smile. "I will arrange for a doctor to examine Joseph once we reach the boat. I considered the idea of a hotel in town, but I want to use his apparent lack of memory to my advantage."

"How so?" Edwards asked, feeling like he was getting a little lost in the conversation.

"If he truly has a lapse in his memory of people and surroundings, then the first place he needs to become familiar with is the place is the boat. After all, this whole scheme revolves around the idea of taking him away from Ben Cartwright and the Ponderosa. To get him to believe that he has been raised somewhere else all his life," Seline explained.

"The fallacy has to be as real as possible if this is going to work. Joseph has to believe that we are the ones who care about him. That we are his friends and that this is where he truly belongs," Seline continued.

Edwards and Yeager had placed themselves at opposite ends of the train on the platform. Both casually standing and analyzing the surroundings and watching the faces of the passengers disembarking.

There seemed to be two porters who were currently run off their feet, fetching luggage for passengers. Edwards could hear one of them being berated by one impatient woman, saying that he was taking too long to carry her baggage. The fellow was doing the best he could, but by the high tone of the obnoxious woman's voice, she wouldn't have agreed with his assessment.

Looking away from that scene, Edwards noted that Yeager was signalling him, indicating that the commotion on the platform was the ideal time to be moving Joe Cartwright.

Although there were still a number of people in plain sight, most appeared to be pre-occupied with someone else or their own affairs to be taking particular note of anything that may seem out of the ordinary.

Edwards and Yeager appeared together before Seline, giving their candid report of the commotion and chaos that was on the platform at this time. Seline did agree that it did appear to be a good opportunity to remove the Cartwright boy and bundle him into a taxi towards the docks.

"Bonnie, you go and fetch us a taxi and make sure its waiting right outside the entrance to the railway station," Seline ordered. "Yeager you give me a hand to stand him upright. He is still unconscious, but between us we should be able to disguise that enough until we reach the taxi."

"Edwards you grab the baggage and put it up on top of the taxi," Seline told the man.

Reluctantly, Bonnie rose from her bedside vigil, and made her way towards the door of the train. She took the one piece of luggage belonging to her, for two reasons. One so that she would not look out of place amidst the other passengers on the platform, and secondly, because she did want any of these men having access to the few items that were personal to her.

With Bonnie out of the room, and Edwards gathering the few pieces of luggage, Seline drew back the sheet that had been lightly covering Joe Cartwright, and tried to assess the best way to approach moving him.

"Is he going to wake up once we start moving him?" Yeager asked, the very question that was running through Seline's mind.

"I don't think so," Seline said, trying to sound convincing, but not exactly sure himself. "He looks to be fairly out of it for the time being. Lets just get him off the bed and to the door. We can make it up as we go."

Seline and were grateful for the fact that Bonnie seemed to think a little ahead of them and had dressed Joe in a shirt and trousers before she left, preparing for the intended move from the train. At least they didn't have to do any of that.

“Didn't he have his own hat back in San Francisco?” Marchant asked, remembering vaguely seeing one on the boy at some point. The man brushed aside any further thoughts, knowing that time was not on their side. For now Seline would have to use his own hat to hide Joe's face as he had done when boarding the train.

"Take him underneath the arm on your side and let's lift him into a sitting position first," Seline instructed Yeager.

Joe remained unresponsive during this process, his head leaning back a little due to him remaining unconscious. It was when Yeager and Seline lifted him to an upright stance on his feet that the fog in his mind began to clear slightly, and the first signs of conscious emerged.

At first the only response was a deep low groan from the base of his throat as his body was pulled upwards. Yeager and Seline were both surprised by the sound, looking intently at the young man's face for any further movement.

"Let's hurry, we may not have much time to spare," Seline commented, unsure of how close the young man was from awareness of what was happening to him.

Yeager and Seline managed to manoeuvre and guide Joe awkwardly through the carriage's narrow passage way towards the door. The hat was placed somewhat haphazardly on his head, but there was few attempts made to adjust it into a more suitable position due to it being too big. Seline pulled the brim down as much as he dared without causing it to fall from the young man's curly head.

A final glimpse towards the platform to make sure that they drew no unnecessary attention to themselves from Edwards. Joe was lifted down to the platform, held upright on both sides from Seline and Yeager.

If enquiries were made, the story was to be that the young man was still suffering from an injury that needed attending by a doctor. Although not strictly a lie, they hoped they would not have to elaborate further to anyone who became too curious.

Joe had made several more moans, perhaps as a result of his body's protests at being moved, but Seline was pleased to see that the level of unconsciousness did not improve to any great degree during their cautious walk towards the taxi.

Although his feet were touching the ground, it was by the support of Seline and Yeager on either side that held Joe upright and prevented him from collapsing entirely.

One woman had looked their way in concern, probably in motherly concern at seeing such a young man having to be physically escorted. But a charming smile from Seline ensured that she made no comment and no attempt to approach him to extend her assistance.

Bonnie was nervously pacing back and forth beside a taxi, just as she had been instructed. She tried to remove her emotions from the situations and not show any deliberate concerns about the manner in which he was being transported.

The taxi driver had only taken an interest upon seeing his intended passengers and noting that one needed a great deal of assistance.

"He not being sick now is he?" the driver asked, his accent strong.

"No," Seline replied curtly, clearly getting impatient. "My assistant will tell you where we need to go. And please don't stop to look at the scenery," he added, signalling for

Edwards to climb up alongside the driver to give directions.

Within a few minutes, Seline, Bonnie and Yeager had bundled the mostly unconscious Joe Cartwright into the taxi and were slowly making their way towards the paddle steamer that had been made ready.

* * *

Bonnie kept a close eye on Joe Cartwright's breathing and temperature signs during the journey, noting that his shirt was beginning to stick to his skin. She reached over and felt his brow in concern, Joe moaning at the sudden touch, and leaning into the fresh coolness that his body felt.

"His temperature is up a little again," Bonnie remarked to Seline. "Probably only from moving him from the train so quickly," she reasoned. She hoped that was all it was.

The journey to the boat was only a short one, but Seline seemed uneasy through it all, wondering if he had taken care of everything enough to cover up what he was attempting to do. It was the number of people at the train station that bothered him the most.

Bonnie was startled by the grandeur of the paddle steamer as she followed Edwards and Yeager, carrying Joe Cartwright to one of the rooms on-board. The furnishings were very luxurious and the fittings stylish. The interior of the rooms would have rivalled that of any of the fine hotels in the area.

Seline had clearly gone to a lot of trouble and expense to set up this elaborate hoax and until this moment, perhaps Bonnie had truly not understood how much he was prepared to gamble to see his desired outcome.

Edwards and Yeager were suitably impressed also by their surroundings, but neither make any comment as they laid Cartwright on the large bedspread. Seline had specifically picked this room for the young man. Being central to a lot of other areas of the boat, it should be fairly easy to track his movements during his captivity.

"Help her to get him settled into bed. I am going to find the doctor to look him over," Seline stated.

Bonnie would have rather not have the two men in the room, but did not wish to voice any objections, knowing that Seline may not take so kindly to her petty reasons.

Once Seline had departed the boat, she had used them to help take off his boots, trousers and sweat soaked shirt, but had then told them she could handle the rest of his care on her own.

Edwards and Yeager did not push the matter and left her to tend to the young man until the doctor returned.

Bonnie found most of the items she needed within a short space of time, and went about bathing Joe's chest in tepid water. She wanted to wash his sweaty body before dressing him a fresh shirt, but also relieve the fever that had flared from being moved from the train.

As she bathed him, Bonnie looked at his young face, and wondered what Seline had in store for this young man. She had yet to learn anything about him. He looked to be someone who enjoyed life, and no doubt could use his handsome face to make friends and go places.

Her train of thought about Joe Cartwright was cut abruptly short as Seline re-entered the room, this time with a doctor carrying a bag containing the tools of his trade.

Bonnie stood up and moved the basin of water away to allow the doctor access to his patient. The doctor was tall and thin, very different in appearance to the doctor that she had seen in San Francisco. His face was devoid of emotion and his features unreadable.

Placing his bag on a nearby table, he began to examine the unconscious man. He did not speak as he lifted the closed eyelids. His mannerisms were very practised and accurate, but looked too clinical and unfriendly to Bonnie's eyes.

The doctor had barely enough time to do the basic checks on Joe, when Seline began demanding to know how the patient was.

"Can you give me an accurate prognosis of his condition?" Seline asked, pacing nervously back and forth, knowing that the outcome of his entire plan was in the balance.

The thin doctor, leaned over his patient and lifted an eyelid once more, ignoring the pressure to be quicker in his assessment. The pupil inside reacted sluggishly to the small amount of invading light. He allowed the eye to close before moving his attention to the young man's head. He could immediately see the tell tale signs from the fresh injury sustained. There was an amount of bruising, but perhaps fortunately for the patient, no open gash as had occurred like the first time.

"There is some bruising here," the doctor pointed out, voicing his observations to Seline. "It is not as bad as the previous blow that you can see here. But that doesn't mean that the impact will be any less. Considering that the first blow was quite severe in itself and you mentioned about the bouts of dizziness and nausea that Miss Bonnie witnessed."

During his examination, Joe showed no signs of waking, or reacting to any of the doctor's probing of his injuries.

"When is he going to wake up?" Seline asked, his tone of voice revealing his growing agitation.

"There is no way to tell. That is individual with every patient. Some I have known recover with little evidence of their injury at all. Then there are some that awaken, but their personalities are completely changed from who they were before. They find themselves unable to relate to family and friends as they did before," the doctor explained.

"I don't want to know about every other patient you have ever seen," Seline declared with impatience and frustration. "I want to know about _this_ young man."

The doctor was becoming increasing annoyed with Seline's stand over tactics, and was not about to be intimidated, "Then there are those few patients that _never_ wake up," he said with emphasis.

"I am the one that hired you, doctor!" Seline said, his anger now becoming apparent.

"Yes, and I doubt that you could find another one in New Orleans who would be willing to carry out what you have asked of me. You have instructed me to tend to this patient and give you my diagnosis as to his recovery and the length of time it may take. I have given you that as best I can. It is too early to see what other effects of the injuries he may have until he wakes up and I am able to speak to him," the doctor replied, calmly but in a stern tone of voice.

Seline now turned towards the back of the room, "Bonnie, get over here so this over priced quack can tell you what you need to do to keep Cartwright alive until he wakes up."

Edward and Yeager both flinched and were just as surprised as Bonnie about the ferocity of Seline's tone of voice. The girl timidly walked closer towards the bed, not wanting to cause the man's anger to turn upon her.

The doctor ignored Seline's outburst, but instead turned his attention to speaking to the girl whom was placed in charge of the young man's medical care. "For now, and over the next few days, you had better keep a close eye on him for any signs of waking up."

Bonnie nodded her head, but did not interrupt the doctor's instructions.

"When he does wake," he began, making sure that Seline was listing to his statement as well, subtly letting the man know that he thought young Cartwright would regain consciousness at some stage. "Be sure and note any increase in his temperature. If his fever continues to rise and develop more, you might need to add using ice and keep using damp cloths to bath him with cooler water."

"What do I do if his temperature becomes too high?" Bonnie asked, worried that she would not be able to cope with such a situation if the young man's health declined.

"I will be here regularly to begin with, at least over the coming week. If any fever is going to occur, it should show up during that time. If his temperature gets too high, then we may have to fully submerse him in a bath of cold water, but that is a rather drastic measure to take, and it may do more harm than good. His body could go into shock, unable to cope with the extremes of heat and cold," the doctor replied.

"Should he be given food or any drink when he does wake?" Bonnie enquired.

"Keep his water intake going as much as possible now, especially if his temperature does start to go up. When he wakes he probably won't be interested in eating very much, but a light broth could be given, with a little extra salt."

"There isn't much you can do physically for his head wound. It is bruising mostly, though the extent of any internal damage is yet to be seen. No doubt you might find he experiences some bouts of sever dizziness and nausea as he did in San Francisco. He might develop bad headaches as a result of the blows that were inflicted. I will give you some mild pain powders when this happens, but for the moment I do not want him taking any sedative until I am convinced that there are no complications with his injuries," the doctor informed Bonnie.

"Alright, that should be enough for now. You said yourself that you will be back tomorrow, so she should be able to keep him alive until then. He isn't a baby and I don't intend wrapping him up in cotton wool. I need him awake for when Ben Cartwright gets here and can see for himself that his beloved youngest son no longer has any loyalty towards him," Seline interrupted, cutting the doctor's visit to as short as possible.

"Don't forget my fee when I come back tomorrow," the doctor remarked. "A little higher than you would like to pay I suspect, but you get what you pay for in this world nowadays."

"You will get paid _doctor,"_ Seline said curtly, though he had a good mind to shoot the doctor and be done with it. The doctor in San Francisco had not been as nearly so condescending and he had met an untimely fate.

* * *

Bonnie could see that now would not be a good time to cross Seline's path. She would hold her tongue and do as she had been told, and look after the Joseph Cartwright.

"Edward, Yeager, come with me, we have some things to discuss," Seline snarled. His tone of voice certainly left no doubt, and he did not wait to see if they hesitated or not before following him to another part of the paddle boat.

Bonnie looked down at her patient after everyone had left, and wondered how best to help him apart from seeing to his medical needs. They needed for him to wake to be able to assess how he felt.

Preparing a basin of water, and testing the temperature with her fingertips before sitting beside the bed, the young woman dabbed a soft cloth into the water and then as gently as she dared, began to gently touch it to Joe's face.

She hoped it would do two things, one, help bring him back towards consciousness, and secondly, it would clean the area directly surrounding his head wound that was bruised and swollen. She didn't dare put any pressure into her actions, but softly washed away the dried blood stains that were present.

After a few minutes, Bonnie was rewarded for her efforts with a low moan from Joe. She stopped her actions, waiting to see if the young man was trying waking up or only in protest about the pain from his wound that she had been carefully trying to clean.

Joe eyelids fluttered a number of times, indicating that he was trying to wake, but finding it difficult. Silently she was urging him to wake so that she could try and determine how badly he had been affected by the second blow to his head.

The young man lifted his hand to his temple, as though trying to show where he was feeling the most pain. His movements were somewhat slow and cumbersome, but Bonnie thought this might be a symptom of the head injury or due to his prolonged period of unconsciousness.

The hand lost its momentum, but rather than returning to his side, it came to rest on his chest. Bonnie looked at the door to the room, hoping that Seline or one of the other men were not about to walk into the room and see what she was intending on doing.

Bonnie lifted the young man's hand and began massaging the fingertips and joints between her own to try and induced a more alert response.

Joe felt like he was swimming against a never ending tide of black that seemed to surround him on all sides. For a brief moment the black mass seemed to clear a little and he thought he saw a strange and distant light before him. He didn't know where the light led to and he really didn't know if he wanted to go towards it.

"Come on now, I know you can here me," Bonnie said softly. "Can you open your eyes for me?"

The fluttering of his eyelids continued, but she could now see that he was making a more determined effort to open his eyes at hearing a voice beside him.

"I know you can do it," she encouraged.

The young man finally managed to open his eyes a little, and glance back at the person speaking to her. But what frightened her the most was the lack of reaction that she saw in his lovely green eyes.

His brow began turning into a frown, and although she put it down to the pain he was experiencing from his injury, a small part of her could see the confusion in his gaze.

Joe tried to move his head from side to side, as though trying to clear the image before him and make more sense of what he was seeing. This only resulted in the headache that was present, reigniting with vengeance. So much so that he moaned deep and low in his throat at the sudden wave that assaulted him.

He closed his eyes again briefly, waiting for the spasm of pain to abate to a more tolerable level. It did not ease much, but he willed himself to open his eyes again and make more sense of his surroundings.

"Here, let me get you a drink of water," Bonnie said, a little unsure about she should be doing. She retrieved a small glass of water and helped the young man to sit up enough to drink from the glass. He didn't offer any word of thanks, but his eyes remained on her, even as she crossed the room to refill the glass from the pitcher.

Bonnie knew that Seline would want to know the minute he was awake, but part of her wanted to allow him time to adjust in his new environment before he was subjected to Seline's presence.

She looked about the room and wondered what to do next. Part of her chastising herself for falling apart slightly, knowing that she had been in much more difficult circumstances before and able to display strength. She didn't know why this time was different, or why this young man's well-being seemed to be a high priority for her.

"You must be hungry?" Bonnie asked, knowing that he had not eaten any full meals for a few days. She had been able to feed him some nourishing broth before leaving San Francisco, but that would not have sustained him until now.

Bonnie was waiting for him to answer, but instead he only gave a small nod in answer to her question. She was glad that at least they had found common ground.

She was fortunate enough to have some food ready a short time ago. Bonnie had tried to adhere to the doctor's suggestions and requested the light broth with extra salt. It had quickly cooled away from the paddle-boat's kitchen, but it was still warm enough for her patient.

Bonnie helped Joe sit upright a little more before seating herself on the chair again, ready to spoon the soup to him. Placing some on the spoon, she held it close to his mouth, waiting for him to sip at the liquid.

"It is good," Bonnie said, trying to reassure him, but noting that he made no attempt at opening his mouth. She was surprised when he lifted his own hand, trying to take the utensil from her hand.

"Are you sure you are strong enough to do it on your own?" Bonnie asked. He did not answer, but persisted in trying to handle the spoon. "Alright, here you are."

The young man took the spoon, spilling some of the contents, but shakily drawing the spoon to his mouth and drinking the small amount of soup that remained. Still he never said a word, and his gaze was still focused on the young woman helping him.

For the next few minutes, Bonnie held the plate for the young man who took a few mouthfuls of the soup, spilling a little each time due to the unsteadiness of his hand. At one point he had tried to hold the plate too, but a stern look from her and a forceful hold on the bowl and he had unsuccessful in getting her to let go.

Part of Bonnie was pleased that he was showing such a stubborn streak after waking from a serious head injury. But she could see that his body was far from healed and that he would still need a good deal of rest and good food to see him well on the road to recovery.

After the sixth spoonful, the young man's hand trembled from fatigue and he allowed the spoon to sink back into the soup. Bonnie offered to help him some more if he was still hungry, but he had turned his head away, indicating that he would not let her feed him.

Bonnie got up and put the bowl to one side briefly, before helping him to lay down once more in the bed. His eyes grew tired and began to droop. With a heavy sigh and a wince from the pain in his head, he allowed his eyes to close and faded off to sleep.

Bonnie knew that Seline would want to know about Joe waking and eating a little, but decided against it. The young man had been coherent enough to be stubborn about his eating, but still weak from his injuries and the past week of tiring travel.

She could tell Seline the next time he woke. The doctor would be back tomorrow. For the moment, she had enough compassion to allow him to sleep undisturbed.

For the next few hours, Bonnie kept her constant vigil beside the young Cartwright's bedside. At times she found herself dozing in the chair due to the tiredness she was feeling, but she didn't dare ask one of the other men to take her place.

She had pondered what the next few days might hold in store for their young patient and themselves as Seline carefully put his plans into place. She would be rewarded almost immediately though, as Seline now came into the room.

"Not awake yet?" the man said, seeing for himself that Joe was sleeping on the bed.

"No, but his condition has not deteriorated any since this morning, which is a good thing," Bonnie commented.

"A fortunate thing indeed," Seline responded, though there was no feeling in his words. "I wish to speak to you and the men together for a time. There needs to be cohesion to our story for when Mr Cartwright does regain consciousness and when he begins to ask questions."

"But the doctor said not to leave him on his own, especially with his head injury," Bonnie said, hoping that she didn't have to hear what the man was planning against Ben Cartwright.

"The young man seems comfortable enough to me," Seline remarked, barely turning his head to see if his statement were correct.

"I shall not waste much of your time, but I need for you to be able to regurgitate some of the background information that I have drawn up about how he comes to be here and his connection to this boat."

Bonnie could see that Seline had no intention of leaving her out of these necessary discussions, and taking a look at her patient and noting that his sleep seemed peaceful enough for now. She reluctantly went towards the door, intending to follow her employer. Somehow she would have to put on a convincing mask and be a involved in this colourful charade.

Bonnie watched as Seline closed the door behind her, and then deliberately allowed her to see him locking the door from the outside. Joe Cartwright was to remain his prisoner and he was not about to take any risks.

* * *

It was about half an hour after Bonnie had left the room, and late in the afternoon, when the young man began to show signs of waking.

The world was coming back to Joe very slowly. He couldn't tell if he was still asleep or awake, somewhere in between he guessed. On that higher plateau between consciousness and being unaware of one's surroundings.

He tried to let the gray veil lift a little before trying to think any more. His head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton wool and everything around him felt incredibly heavy. He was still trying to figure out where he was and why and why the hell he hurt so bad.

_Try and think of simple things first_ he pointed out to himself. _First,_ _'what is your name?'_ His mind was totally blank. Inwardly he frowned and tried to concentrate harder on remembering something so easy as his o his head at any moment.

_'Where are you?'_ asking the second question. Again no answer came, only more confusion and anxiety. When he forced himself to take a breath and think of where he last remembered, all he could see was a bright light.

_“I don't know who I am,”_ he said out loud to himself and immediately snapped open his eyes to look around at where he was. The panic in him started to rise to the surface again as he fought to keep control of his fear.

_“I don't know who I am,”_ he repeated, allowing his eyes to settle on the room be found himself laying in. There was no-one else in the room, and there was no recognition or familiarity of his surroundings.

Joe tried desperately to think of who he was but still, the answer didn't come and his head now began to throb from the efforts of remembering. He put a hand up to the area where he thought the pain was coming from, and winced, withdrawing his fingers as he felt where he had been struck.

As Joe opened his eyes a little more, he could hear voices talking to him. They spoke to him, but he did not understand their words, the sounds reminding him of people talking while he used to swim underwater.

Joe forced his body upright on the bed and lowered his legs over the bed, preparing for his feet to touch the floor. He kept telling himself that if got up and began walking around, he might be able to clear the cloudiness of his head and remember who he was and where he was.

With his back turned towards the door, and his concentration centred on the dizziness that was assaulting his sense of balance. The room pitched to and fro and he had to swallow many times to keep from vomiting. His legs were visibly trembling and, much to his chagrin, the dizziness began to get worse, threatening to betray his body and send him back into the oblivion he had just awoken from.

_From behind….._

"What in the world are you doing out of bed!" came a thunderous cry from behind startling Joe badly. He grappled for the edge of the bed clothes and was barely able to keep from spilling onto the fall.

Because his back was towards the people in the doorway, Joe did not see Bonnie whisper to Seline.

"Remember what you said….," Bonnie warned.

A grimace seemed to work its way across Seline's face briefly. His look of disdain obvious to the girl, but quickly replaced by that of someone with concern for the young man's welfare.

The elaborate charade that Seline had to carefully laid out and put together, was about to be tested.

Joe vaguely felt hands trying to help him stand, and with his legs still trembling slightly and his confusion growing, he found himself laying back on the bed.

"Are you alright, Joseph?" Seline asked, his voice seemingly full of concern.

Seline had released his hold on the young man once the bed was underneath him.

Joe could hear a voice talking to him, and he lifted his head in response.

"You have had a nasty blow to the head, Joe. You need to rest until the doctor says you have healed enough to get out of bed," Seline commented, noting the confusion on the young man's face, and doubting if any of what he was saying was being taken in.

"W-who…..," Joe began, his voice barely audible, and his thoughts not coherent enough to complete the sentence.

Seline didn't know whether the young man was asking about his own name or not.

"Your name is Joseph. Joseph Dubois. Do you remember?" Seline asked, inwardly smiling at the reaction Ben Cartwright would have at his son's sudden change of surname.

Joe didn't respond right away, and Seline was about to ask the question a second time, when the young man shook his head in a negative answer. Anybody not paying attention would have missed the action entirely.

Watching from the side of the bed, Bonnie couldn't help but notice the apprehension on Joe's face and the lack of recognition of his own christian name, even after being prompted.

"It doesn't matter for now, Joseph. The most important thing now is to get you better and then we can work on you remembering who you are," Seline said, playing his role to perfection.

"Bonnie will get you a little more comfortable and then get you something to eat, and then we can get the doctor to take another look at you." Seline commented, moving towards the door and preparing to leave the room.

Joe turned his head towards the young woman, but he didn't remember who she was either. Her expression was one of sympathy towards him and she gave him a small smile.

Seline was about to close the door behind him, when he decided it was best to plant the seed of doubt earlier, rather than later.

"By the way, Joseph. I know it is difficult for you to remember who you are, but we will take good care of you, son." Seline left before any questions formed on the boy's lips.

Joe's brow furrow at the mention of the word _'son'_ , but he didn't know he fully comprehended what was being said to him. _Was the man who left the room his father? Why couldn't he remember who he was. Why couldn't he remember who these people were?_

His stomach growled, telling him that the idea of a meal was a good one. Bonnie went to prepare a tray for him, promising to be back in a few minutes.

During her brief absence Joe leaned back against the pillow and closed his eyes, a combination of the pain from his head and the frustration of not knowing who he or anybody else was.

* * *

Once the train pulled out of the station, Adam and Hoss found themselves in a similar position to the one they had been when travelling on the stage coach. Their father was worried and desperate for news about his youngest son.

Neither of them could think of the right words to say, but knew they would be there to support their father and help in anyway they could. They were worried about their brother Joe and what could be happening to him when they always seemed to be a step behind his movements.

The train had pulled out of the station, and fortunately for the Cartwright family, it was a little less crowded than when Seline and his party had travelled on it.

Ben sat with opposite his sons, so that he was not facing any of the other few remaining passengers. Adam watched his father's facial expressions, noticing the tightening of his grip on the brim of Joe's hat.

The hat had been discovered at the train station on pure chance, but Ben held onto it, somehow seeking to reconnect with Joseph. It wasn't until Ben turned it over, examining it more closely that he found a darkened stain on the inside.

"Adam, Hoss, look at this!" Ben exclaimed, showing them the upturned hat, and pointing to the stain. All three drawing the same conclusion that the stain was most likely blood. It was a dark rusty colour, again the much lighter material inside.

The stain was dry, so there was no real way of knowing how long it had been there. Ben was convinced it had not been there when Joe had left the Ponderosa.

"What do you think, Pa?" Hoss asked cautiously. "You think that Little Joe is laying hurt somewhere?"

"I don't know, Hoss. There are too many possibilities. It has only been by luck that we are even on this train to begin with. Joe's hat was at the train station, but anything else that might have happened is pure speculation."

"Do you think we should ask the conductor if he remembers seeing Joe at all?" Adam suggested.

"I don't know, but I guess it is worth a try. We have no other clues apart from this train?" Ben said, his voice sounding dejected.

"Conductor!" Adam said to a man approaching the part of the carriage where they were sitting. He was wearing a navy blue uniform and wore a hat that identified him as part

of the staff aboard the train.

"Can I help you, Sir?" the man asked. "Do you have your tickets please?"

Adam handed over the three tickets that had been purchased, the conductor looking at them and then back at the Cartwrights, seemingly satisfied.

"I was wondering if you could tell me, you see we are looking for my son and we have reason to believe that he may have travelled on this very train before," Ben interjected before Adam could speak.

With the conductor standing in front of them, none of them noticed a middle-aged lady sitting on the opposite aisle, being able to hear the conversation that was taking place.

"Is he travelling here on the train with you today, Sirs?" the conductor asked, looking for another younger passenger he may have missed for ticket inspection.

"No, you don't understand," Hoss stated. "Joe ain't here with us today. But we think he might have been on this train a couple of days ago?"

"He is not with you here?" the conductor remarked, appearing more confused.

"My name is Ben. Ben Cartwright. These two men are my son's Adam and Hoss. We are on this train looking for my youngest son Joseph."

"How do you know he was on this train?" the conductor asked. By now Adam and Hoss had deemed the man to be a slow learner, hampering their need for information that might help find Joe.

"You see, we found his hat at the ticket office back at the train station," Ben continued the story.

"Excuse me gentlemen," a voice said from behind the conductor. The man turned, enabling the Cartwright's to see the middle-aged woman who was addressing them.

"I didn't mean to interrupt and of course I didn't mean to overhear what was being said, but I couldn't help but notice you said something about a young man named Joseph."

The fact that the woman called Joe by his name caught the Cartwright's attention immediately. Ben turned to face her and was keenly listening to anything she might have to say.

The woman was well-dressed Ben wanted to be sure that he didn't scare away the one witness who claimed to have seen his missing son recently.

"My name is Benjamin Cartwright, ma'am. I am from Nevada territory, travelling with my two son's Hoss and Adam," the Patriarch said as he respectfully removed his own hat and introduced his sons to the woman.

"My name is Mrs Estella Ruby Martha Hopkins. My husband is a very important man you know. Stewart Hopkins, perhaps you have heard of him?" the woman commented with pride in her voice.

"My apologies, but I am relatively new to this area," Ben replied. The woman seemed a little perturbed that her husband's importance had not been noticed, and most of all her own name.

"Can you start at the beginning please, ma'am," Adam asked, hoping their might be further clues about confirming who had taken Joe and where they had taken him to.

The woman appeared happy enough to oblige and seemed to take particular pride in telling the men how unjustly she had been dealt with by the young porter a few days before:

"Well, you know it all started with that young man at the train station," the woman began.

"You mean the porter at the ticket office, ma'am?" Hoss interrupted, trying to put a face to people the woman was mentioning.

"That young man needs a good talking to. The only thing he had eyes for on the morning I spoke to him, was for the pretty young woman in another compartment," Mrs Hopkins scoffed.

"Can you describe the young woman, ma'am," Adam asked, hoping for more clues. He and Ben exchanged glances when the woman began to describe the same woman that had been described in San Francisco in the stage coach by the young police officer.

"More than a coincidence, wouldn't you say, Pa," Hoss remarked. Ben nodded his head in agreement, but continued to listen to Mrs Hopkins story.

"I had asked for a seat in the upper-class carriage. They have sleeping quarters you know," the woman explained, her voice changing to note the unsatisfactory treatment she had received. "But that ticket man refused to note my husband's status and told me that the entire compartment had already been booked out."

"The whole compartment?" Ben asked, his curiosity quirked, thinking that this could mean quite a number of people.

"Well, I didn't see anyone at all, he told me that they were already aboard. Sounded all very suspicious to me. I even told him that I was going to make a complaint to the Station Master," Mrs Hopkins answered. "And I will too," she added, as though just remembering what she had said to Harvey Reynolds that day.

"Did you see a young man, possibly wearing a hat that looked like this?" Ben probed, holding out Joe's hat for the woman to inspect.

The woman looked briefly at it, but took a disinterest in such things. She began commenting to the woman sitting next to her about a new subject of conversation, "You know that young people today just don't show enough respect."

"Please ma'am, my youngest son Joseph is missing, and we are desperately seeking information about him," Ben pleaded, his voice showing his exasperation at the woman's self-interest and focus on what she had witnessed.

The woman stopped in mid-sentence, looking at Ben for a moment, and noting the genuineness of his face. She noted there were signs of weary on the gentleman's face, her high and mighty attitude softening as she gauged the man was seeking information about a missing family member.

Adam could see that Ben's words struck a cord, and tried to encourage the woman further, thinking a little of the truth would help the cause. "We have reason to believe that something has happened to my younger brother. He might be travelling with those who would want to hurt him."

"Oh dear!" the woman exclaimed, placing a hand over her mouth.

Ben and Adam exchanged brief glances, not knowing if revealing their suspicions about Joe's kidnapping would hamper their efforts further, but Ben nodded slightly towards his eldest son in reassurance that the right methods were being employed.

"I apologize to you all, I didn't know the matter was so urgent. I do remember that a young man stumbled into the carriage we were sitting in that day. At first I thought he must entered by mistake, but he barely walked to the first row of seats before I could see blood running down his face," Estella said, pausing to think if she had noted anything else on the day.

"There was another man behind him, because I remember chastising him harshly about not watching someone who was injured enough on the train," the woman continued.

"Did you see how the blood came to be on his face?" Adam asked grimly, the fresh information about Joe being injured bringing no comfort to his family.

"No, but he seemed to be off-balance, and had tried to take hold of the seat to stop himself from falling. He did fall on his knees, and I that is when those other men burst through the door and helped him up," Mrs Hopkins recalled.

"The man admitted that the young man had injured himself a few days before and that they were travelling to New Orleans for some medical treatment."

"Do you remember how many of them there were, ma'am?" Hoss asked. The information about New Orleans matched the destination of the train they were on.

"Possibly three. I can't remember what they all looked like, but the first one…," Mrs Hopkins replied, remembering what features she could. By the end of her description, Ben Cartwright was in no doubt that the man who had been on the train with his son was Marchant Seline.

"There was his father and two other men that helped the young man up," Estella stated."

"His father!" Ben said, the words barely able to get the words out. He could feel the anger in him rising, barely suppressed by his overall concern that Joe had been injured. He could almost feel physical pain in his heart, the result that someone else would claim Joseph as their son.

Ben and Joe's relationship ran deeper than any river, and was etched in stone. A sacred bond that was built on trust and love and that should never be broken.

Ben now stood up, caught up in his own thoughts at such an outrageous statement. That Seline had recklessly taken Joseph in the first place from the people who loved him was bad enough. What he couldn't believe or stomach in any format was that Seline would have the audacity to call Joseph his son.

"Are you all right, Pa," Adam asked, seeing that Ben was disturbed by this piece of news. It didn't sit well on Hoss or himself either that someone would deliberately tell such devastating lies.

According to the woman's statement, Joe was injured, probably concussed by the symptoms she had described. Seline had taken advantage of that at a time when Joe was more vulnerable, and would not have comprehended what was being said.

Estella could see Ben's distress, having no idea that the man's idle words at the time of her chastising him would not have been truthful. If she had known the young man was in danger or in the wrong company, perhaps she could have done more to help him.

"The man that was with him," she began, he did say the young man's name. She was trying to remember how the man had pronounced the surname. It was one she had not heard often.

"He said his name was Joseph…," she told them, still mulling over the surname.

"Joseph….?" Ben prompted, knowing at least that the Christian name was right. This was the first real breakthrough they had had since San Francisco and any details might help find him.

"Cartwright?" Adam suggested, hoping for his Pa's sake that Seline had used his brother's real name.

"No…. is started with D…..," Mrs Hopkins remarked, her brow furrowing as she tried to pull the name from her memory.

"D?" Hoss commented, confused that Cartwright name had not been used.

Adam and Hoss looked at their father as he opened his mouth to speak. He sighed audibly, as though he wished he didn't know the correct answer. But somehow they could see the pain on his face that said he did indeed know.

" _Dubois_ ," Ben said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked down at Joe's hat once more, as though trying to stem the flood of memories from coming back.

Mrs Hopkins answered a little too enthusiastically at the correct name, "Yes, that was it." Her smile quickly faded as she realized that she had unknowingly caused pain again to this family.

Adam drew a hand down his face, knowing that a whole new can of worms had just been opened up. Hoss couldn't help but ball his fists in anger, wanting to strike out at something.

Not only had their brother been kidnapped. They were now on their way by train to a city that held a lot of memories for their father, good and bad. Now they were being told that as a final insult to their father and the memory of Marie, that Joe had been given the name of his mother.

The Cartwright family had suspected that Seline must have been using standover tactics to force Joe to come with them. They had already come to the conclusion and were forced to admit that he was probably using even stronger methods.

Hoss now asked the question that Adam and Ben were both thinking. "How come Joe didn't say anything about his name being different. Or about Seline being his Pa?"

"It does sound odd, Hoss," Ben admitted. "But I don't have any real answer now. He has been hurt, and maybe he didn't hear Seline using his mother's name or telling Mrs Hopkins that Joe was his son."

Adam and Hoss agreed that this sounded the most plausible situation, given that Joe was bleeding at the time. He may have been only semi-conscious and not thinking straight. Knowing their brother as well as they did, he would not have welcomed the casual use of his mother's name.

Within his family and close circle of friends, it was quite a well known secret, but Joe's memories of his mother and everything about her were treasured. There were many times that he could barely speak about her without feeling a sense of grief and loss, even from when he was very small. And even now many years later, that devotion to her memory only grew stronger and had never wavered.

"Thank you for your help, Mrs Hopkins," Ben said, not being able to think straight for the revelations that he had just been told. "You have been most helpful."

Mrs Hopkins reached over and briefly took Ben's hand in her own, seeing his pain and wanting to offer what words of comfort she could, "I hope you find your son soon."

Ben and his two sons retreated back to their own seats on the train, heavy with thoughts about what took place on the train that day and what might be happening to Joe now.

Ben knew of Seline's affections for Marie, and that they had both known each other in New Orleans before she came to Nevada. He couldn't help but think what irreparable damage Seline could do with false words about her or her family.

"Please help me find our boy, Marie," Ben prayed silently as he resumed his own seat.

* * *

Over the next several hours, Ben Cartwright occupied a seat closest to the window of the train, his thoughts drawn outside and many miles away.

The information that they had learned over the past few days tumbled around in his head, swirling around in his mind. He lost track of time itself as he tried to focus on putting the pieces of Joseph's disappearance together.

As the train continued along its journey towards New Orleans, Ben couldn't help but be wrapped up in a cloak of perpetual anguish over what might be happening to Joe.

By now, he, Adam and Hoss had learned a lot of valuable clues and useful information, but Ben let out an audible sigh upon the stark reality that they were still no closer to finding and reaching his missing son.

When they left the Ponderosa and Virginia City, he had held onto the hope that they were perhaps only a short distance away from Seline and his devilish plans. Then they had discovered about his obsession in watching Joe over many years. And that was very unsettling in itself.

What kind of a man watches another man's son, only to be plotting away at how to steal him away, causing nothing but heartache for all involved. Ben's expression on his face turned to a frown, realising that he and his boys had no idea at this point in time that Joe was even aware what was happening to him.

Constable Hunter had been a witness to the fact about Little Joe having a head injury when he was taken by Seline from San Francisco. Evidence suggested that Marchant had killed a doctor who had been brought in to take care of Joe, in cold blood, with little regard for the man's life.

They had seen for themselves how ruthless Seline was prepared to be to obtain his objectives. Ben gave a silent prayer and reminded himself that they had to be grateful for small mercies. From all accounts, Joe was still alive. He would take that small sliver of hope and hold onto it tightly.

Mrs Hopkins had confirmed for him just a short while ago that Joe was still suffering by mentioning that she had seen fresh blood on his face before he had been taken away by Seline's men.

For Ben, despite the many hours of torturous, monotonous travel ahead of him and his boys, the time was filled with a sense of worry and anguish and of a helplessness that was almost tangible. He wanted so much to find Joe and bring him home to where he belonged, but so far, Seline had been the ultimate orchestrator and was always a few steps ahead of them.

Ben couldn't help but try and work out the mysterious and dark man that called himself Marchant Seline.

Yes there was history between them concerning Jean, Marie's first husband. But the patriarch had never considered the threats that she had received from the man to evolve into desperate hatred and strong revenge. Marie was gone, yes, but there wasn't anything neither he nor anyone else could have done to prevent the tragic accident all those years ago. If Ben had been able to find a way to turn back the hands of time, he would have done so...willingly.

Ben recalled the words that he had spoken to Hoss and Adam on the first stage, explaining about Seline and his encroachment into their lives. He needed to understand what drove the man to such acts, like kidnapping Joseph and manipulating those around him. Someone looking at all the clues could rightly assume that the latest events were caused as an intended act of revenge. However, the lengths to which this elaborate hoax was being taken suggested an even darker side to Seline's personality than any of them ever dared to contemplate.

Marie had been fearful of him once, and had reluctantly spoken to Ben of such feelings, when she felt she couldn't hide it from her new family any more. It had taken a lot of courage on her part after a long battle of silent torment for her to do so and she had proven herself to be a very strong-willed person. Her spirit and sense of adventure had drawn Ben to her like a moth to a flame, even on that first day they had crossed paths.

Whilst dwelling on past memories as a way to pass the time as the train rolled along the long track towards New Orleans, Ben hoped they may prove to be the very key in helping find Joe. Instead of being one step behind, anticipate Seline's next move and prevent it. With an uncomfortable and unforgiving stiff seat, Ben drifted deeper into his own thoughts, knowing in his own heart that he was still some distance from finding Joe and retrieving him safely.

Ben had known bad men before during his life, and had known bad men before that had done terrible crimes. He had seen vindictiveness and wickedness at its very core, where some men's answer to a problem was a hand on their sidearm before asking a question. But never to the level that Seline seemed to have stalked his prey, or the preparation he was willing to employ in getting back at Ben. Cold and calculating. In some towns the value of a person's life was not very high.

From where he is currently sitting, Ben didn't notice the crease in Adam's forehead become a little deeper with light anxiety and concern for the closed off stiffness of his father's back. Hoss's face was a mixture of tenseness and apprehensiveness, his body posture fidgety and barely able to keep still. His larger frame is brimming with the questions he wants to ask, but for now he holds back.

The ultimate goal that Seline wanted to achieve was obvious to a certain extent. His almost tangible need for revenge for the losing Marie to someone he considered well beneath his class, and her intention to start a lifestyle that he clearly didn't approve of. It was like a cold hard slap to his face and his ego that needed to be publicly avenged.

The amount of planning and cunning that was being employed to achieve this was being revealed every day with each different stop they made and with each accidental clue or deliberate footprint left to be followed.

Putting aside the man's personal vendetta against him, Ben found his thoughts coagulating together in search of what else his old nemesis intended to achieve. If Seline was hell-bent on tearing down Joe's individual traits and retraining any kind of power or authority over the young man, than the man didn't know Joe's personality very much at all. Or the strength and courage of his mother that became intertwined with him since the day he had been born.

Whilst Ben might be able to guess or use his detailed knowledge of his son to determine what Seline's next move would be, but up until now, the evidence had clearly shown a set trail to follow. Manipulation has certainly played a large part as well, and the chorus of people involved in Joe's disappearance seemed to be growing with each new clue they stumbled across.

The next destination, New Orleans brought with it a whole array of new possibilities of mystery and danger. With the people and the largeness of the city, and the vast differences in culture and ethnicity. A labyrinth of vibe and activity where one could easily entice themselves with the aromas of restaurants, to the gaiety of festivals. Or on the other side of the coin, become lost in shipping docks and wharfs and encounter folk who were not so welcoming of strangers. Where making a living was a hard day's work for little reward except a meagre existence.

Joe wasn't naïve and Ben had always ensured that all of his boys understood how fortunate they were to have a successful ranch and live in a warm and loving home. With plenty of good food and clothes to wear. But Joe had perhaps been the more privileged of the three brothers and had not endured the harsher times that Adam and Hoss grown up in.

With wanting to find fault in his son at this hour, Ben knew that Joe could be lured into doing some things by a pretty face, or for the chance to join a game of poker at the local Saloon. Alcohol was abundant in many places and cheap enough to make a good man forget about his obligations for a time. Is this what Seline hoped to achieve by bringing the young man to such a city?

Seline had the advantage of knowing that one of Joe's great weaknesses, and a long time held curiosity that stemmed from wanting to know more about his mother, Marie. Her family's origins and how she had grown up. To a young boy, her city sounded thrilling and adventurous. Out of desperation to keep her memory alive in his mind, he often fought so hard to hold onto every shred about her because he had been too young to remember much more than a few cherished moments

Perhaps this long term obsession about Marie and Joe that Seline carried out now caused his own sanity to become unstable. His motives unclear except for the need to make sure that Joe was separated from his family.

Without knowing, perhaps they as a family had set up the perfect opportunity for Seline to strike like he now has. Allowing their over-protectiveness of Joe to work in his favour and cause him to pull away from them and seek out new horizons.

Shifting around on the uncomfortable bench style seat, Ben began thinking back to the conversation that he and Joe had shared that day after the Saloon. Or the argument Ben thought a little more ruefully, recalling each and every word that had shouted or spoken to each other.

Hindsight would say that dragging his son away from his friends from the saloon might have been a little hasty. That maybe he should have waited until Joe was home and spoken calmly to him about he felt about what he saw as brash behaviour.

_"_ _Joe, you were supposed to load the supplies, collect the mail and then get a haircut," Ben said using a softer tone, hoping it would help cool Joe's temper "Instead I find you hours later inside a saloon, drinking beer and having young ladies hanging off your arm like trophies."_

At nineteen, Joe was still young enough to be wanting to try and find his place, not only within the family, but the world in general, and prove himself more and more every day. Didn't he understand that he had nothing left to prove to his family?

In Ben's eyes, his youngest son had already been through so much adversity and been forced to endure too many soul destroying times during the last few years, and suffered more than any one person should have to. And that just made this whole scenario harder to bear from a distance and not being there in person when his son needed him the most. That more torment and heartache could be happening right now, when Joseph had already experienced way too much of both in life.

The whole idea of breaking the horses for the army had been Joe's idea from the start. Something separate from Adam and Hoss on the ranch, and something he was good at, but wanting to gain as much independence as he could.

Going back over the events they were aware of that had happened so far since leaving on the drive to San Francisco, Ben had to admit that his son's judgment about the right number of horses to break and how to do it was without fault. That Joe had taken all the correct precautions for the long journey and had even handled men like Douglas on the trail as good as any seasoned leader from what they had learned.

Joe had pleaded with his father and Adam about trying to let him experience life for himself and wanting to do the right thing.

Past and present events that seemed to have very little if any connection at all, were now swirling around and becoming entangled together to put Joe in mortal danger from predators like Marchant Seline.

What Ben wouldn't give now just to have Joe safe and at home, chastising Hoss from trying to take too long at an innocent game of checkers.

Standing up to stretch his aching back, Ben moved to other side of the train, seating himself closer to Adam to Hoss. "Boys, we need to talk about a plan of action once this train arrives in New Orleans. With the confirmation that Joe is hurt, it will be up to us to find him. We cannot let Seline keep leading us around, keeping us were he can keep watch."

"What do want to do, Pa?" Hoss sat up a little straighter in his own seat, seeing a glint of the Ben Cartwright that he knew people of Virginia City looked up to.

This was a father who wanted to protect one of his own cubs more than anything else, even if that child deemed themselves almost fully grown. This was the determination that normally saw any of his sons sit up and take notice immediately and not want to question the reasons why.

"This is what I want you and Adam to do….."

* * *

_Back aboard the Steam-Boat:_

With fresh pain blossoming at the base of his neck, Joe rubbed with the palm of his left hand, trying to massage it away so he could think straight.

The young woman who had been in his room a few minutes ago had promised to return. The man who had been present had left again, leaving more questions than answers as his words continued to echo in his mind; _'Your name is Joseph. Joseph Dubois. Do you remember?'_

The trouble was that he still didn't remember, any more than he did when he first awoke. There was no way of knowing if this was all some strange and weird dream.

The man claimed to know him, and called him by name. No that wasn't quite right, _told_ him his name. Said that he was his father. And why would the man do that if he wasn't? He had been afraid of the man at first, the stinging slap to his face a reminder. But this time when the man had entered the room, his mood had changed and he had mentioned something about him being hurt, sounding concerned.

Continually rolling the name around in his head, _Joseph Dubios….Dubois_ …. or even saying it out loud, didn't mean anything to him.

The hurt part he could definitely agree with at the moment, leaning forward to try and relieve the non-stop headache, wincing out loud at the discomfort. He was sure his brain was clashing against at least one side of his skull.

Dragging his legs over the side of the bed in an attempt to stand up to see if it would help, he was startled by the door opening. The young woman who had been in the room earlier was holding a covered tray.

Bonnie was balancing the tray over her forearm and turning the door knob with the other hand, but gasped in surprise at seeing the young man trying to get up off the bed. She had no way of getting to him I time to stop him hitting the floor if he suddenly fell.

"You really shouldn't be doing that a lot just yet," Bonnie admonished softly, settling the tray on a nearby bedside table.

"I just want the pain to stop," Joe declared hotly, grabbing onto his head with both hands, the room spinning a little.

Bonnie placed a restraining hand on his shoulder, noting that there was still some heat from his fever present, "Just take it a little slow," she urged, watching as he bent at the waist and flopped inelegantly onto the bed. He was now seated and in no danger of falling onto the floor, but he was still too pale for her liking and his pain was very evident.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so gruff," came the whispered apology as he lowered his hands and lifted his head up towards her.

For a brief moment, Bonnie held a breath at the vulnerable figure young man who was gazing back at her, silently asking for her held with his green eyes and heavy lashes. His mussed hair completed the look and she could feel her insides all but melting at wanting to help him.

"Take it much slower moving about and you won't feel so dizzy," she lightly chastised, putting on a harder exterior. She reminded herself that she was here simply because Seline and Doctor told her to take care of him.

Joe tried to nod his acknowledgement, but closed his eyes and rode out the pain as best he could, letting his hands fall idly in his lap. Having his eyes closed, forced his other senses to take stock of his surroundings, and what assaulted him now were delicious smells wafting from the covered tray beside him.

Bonnie looked to where he was drawn, "I think if you eat a little of this, you will feel much better. Sit back and I will help you."

Reluctantly, Joe forced himself to sit back against the headboard of the bed, pausing briefly at the pain that flared intently for a moment. He opened his eyes as he felt the tray placed over his legs, and was greeted with an assortment of aromas as the fabric cover was peeled away.

"I didn't know what you would like, so I made a few light things for you. You can try something else later when you feel a little more like yourself," Bonnie informed him, tucking the cover into the front of his shirt.

Joe glanced up at her remark _'feel a little more like yourself'_ but didn't comment further. He had no idea how he should to be feeling or just who he was supposed to be, but left if unspoken.

Looking down at the platter before him, Joe went from plate to bowl, naming for himself just what each one was, to prove to himself that he at least knew what foods she wanted him to eat. Bonnie took it one step further though at seeing his hesitance in eating, and pointing to each, named each for his benefit.

"Lightly buttered toast with a touch of cinnamon. Just a little. And a soft-boiled egg. Freshly squeezed orange juice, I thought it might be a bit too much for strong coffee just yet."

Joe picked up one corner of toast in readiness to put it in his mouth, noticing that this appeared to please the woman greatly.

"You eat just as much as you can, and I will be right back with your clothes for the day. Mr …I mean, your father wanted you to join him as soon as you were awake." And with that she exited the room, thinking she had enough time and thinking that he would be able to manage feeding himself for a few minutes.

Joe watched out the door as the last swish of the woman's heavy blue skirts signalled that she had left the room, putting the piece of toast back on the plate uneaten. Although his sense of smell wanted him to at least taste a few morsels of food, his queasy unsettling of his stomach disagreed with those intentions.

Picking up the glass of juice, he sipped at the tangy liquid, the coolness wetting the back of his throat. A little bitter, but not too much, and he managed to drink quarter of the contents before putting it back on the white saucer. The next test was to prod the yellow top of the soft egg with the prongs of a fork, watching the gooey centre rush out through the incision. That made his stomach lurch a little more in forewarning.

A turn of the doorknob, and Joe quickly picked up the corner of toast and took a bite as the woman returned with an armful of clothes and other items. Joe went to slide the tray aside as if wanting to help, "No need, you need to finish that breakfast," Bonnie interjected, looking down at the plate as she neared the bed and looking with dismay at the mostly full plate.

"That won't do at all, Joseph. You need to eat a little more and then get into these clothes that I have laid out here," Bonnie asserted, seeing out of the corner of her eye that his attention was now on what she was doing rather than eating.

"I have had enough," Joe informed her, hoping she would not press him into eating more. He didn't want this stomach rebelling on him as well as the pounding head.

With interest though, he watched as the woman laid out a pair of dark coloured trousers, a tan coloured long-sleeved shirt, and a coat. Black shoes were placed beside the assemble.

"Are those for me?" the young man found himself asking before he realised he had spoken his thoughts out loud.

"Well, I don't see anybody else in this room that would be wanting clothes, now do you?" Bonnie said with a small laugh. She could see the confusion on his face and more questions mirrored in his eyes.

"Do I wear clothes like that?" he blurted out, looking down at the clumsy attire he had on and not even knowing they belonged to him. Clothes were a necessity of course, but not knowing who you are meant you didn't know what you would normally wear either.

"Headache still bothering you, is it?" the woman asked as she saw his concentration on the clothes increase. She really wanted him to eat more before facing Seline, but it didn't look like she was going to be successful with that task just yet. His colour was still too pale and he looked like he could do with a few more pounds on his lithe frame.

Joe looked up at her question, pausing as if to assess and then nodded, regretting as he did so with a wince. The headache had grown a little less noticeable, but not much.

Moving too quickly was still proving to be a bad thing to do. Once again on the edge of the bed, he did as she suggested and bided his time before attempting to stand. The second time around and he was able to pull himself up, one hand still hovering over the edge of the bed in case his legs betrayed him.

"I can give you something for your pain a little later, but right now we have to get you into these clothes so you can meet with your father.

Joe walked cautiously took a few steps around the bed, hand still remaining close if needed, making his way to stand in front of the pants and coat. He looked at the woman who stood ready to help him and didn't recall what she had said her name was.

"What was your name?" he asked, slightly embarrassed that he didn't remember if she had told him.

The woman looked back him and answered, "Bonnie," with a quiet voice. Joe didn't recognize the slight sad tone of her voice for the guilt it caused her, but gave her a shy smile in return.

Turning away from Bonnie and taking a closer inspection of the clothes she had chosen for him, he reached out and picked up the pants, giving them a critique. The fabric was softer than it looked, and they felt nice to the touch. The colour was very dark.

"I can help you if you still feel unsteady," Bonnie offered, reaching out to help him remove the simple trousers and loose shirt he was wearing.

A little nervous and startled, Joe took a step back, away from her, "Um, no thank you, I think I can manage."

Bonnie wasn't convinced but could see him turning an interesting shade of blush at her prying hands, but against her better judgment, gave him the privacy he was asking for.

"I will be right outside the door if you need me. Let me know when you are done, so I can make sure it all fits properly."

Joe sighed audibly in relief when the woman left, thankful she was giving him a little space. He could see that she didn't really want to leave the room, fearing he was still dizzy when standing. He couldn't argue with that assessment as his headache peaked sharply once more, but he was determined that he could at least dress himself, even if he didn't remember his own name.

Deciding to start with the soft trousers in his hand, Joe undid the front of the pair he was wearing and carefully pulled out one leg at a time. By the time he had taken them off, he was using one hand to lean heavily on the bed covers. It appeared that just getting undressed was requiring more strength than he would have thought necessary today.

Slowly sliding on the pair of dark pants, he was surprised at how well they fit. The fabric was just as soft and they laced up at the front. He didn't know how Bonnie knew what would fit him. Maybe she was just guessing or perhaps she was a seamstress. On the whole, the choice met with his approval, the fabric allowing movement but was neither restrictive or cumbersome.

Pausing for a few moments, he then picked up the shirt that lay on the bed. The fabric was white in colour, but felt as though it had a rougher texture to it.

Once he tucked it in, he looked down at himself. Neat and tidy perhaps. He wanted to walk across the other side of the room to the mirror, but it was only small as he recalled and he wouldn't be able to fully see himself to make judgment.

A soft knock at the door made him look up too quickly, and regret it as he winced out loud at the spike of pain that protested profusely. The young woman who had taking care of him, entered.

"Sorry, I wanted to give you more time, but Mr... your father is getting rather restless and waiting to speak to you," Bonnie apologized. "My you are starting to look more like your old self again," she praised, but the lie was like a bad after taste.

Joe felt a little awkward under the woman's gaze, "You really mean that? That I look like me?"

The genuineness of the question made Bonnie pause before answering, seeing that the young man was trying to find any shred of the person others thought himself to be.

"You look fine," she muttered, not wanting to plant ideas into his head any more than Seline required of her. "Put those shoes on that I left for you so we don't keep your father waiting too much longer."

"A stickler for being on time is he?" Joe queried as did as requested and put on the black shoes. They felt a little too big, but he didn't want to sound like he was complaining too much.

"You could say that," she answered, not wanting to elaborate any further.

Joe looked back towards the bed frowning slightly.

"Everything alright?"

Joe seem to be lost in his own thoughts for a moment, and startled at her voice, “No, I just feel like something is missing."

"Missing?"

"Like I have forgotten to put something else on that I would normally wear," Joe explained.

"Like what? You have your clothes and shoes?"

"That's just it, I don't know, and I can't put my finger right on it. But just a feeling."

"I think its all just been a bit much with your head injury, and you are not thinking straight quite enough yet," the woman responded.

"You think that is all it is?" Joe asked, clearly not convinced and a little uncertain as to why she didn't want to hear about what he might be feeling or remembering, if that is what it was.

"I do, come on, lets go. A little gentle exercise and some fresh air out of this room will do you the world of good," Bonnie replied, taking a hold of his upper arm and pulling him towards the corridor.

* * *

Finding himself in the corridor, Joe couldn't sense any familiarity with this place any more than he had with anything else yet. If this was where he was used to living, one would think that it was an automatic instinct which direction to walk in to where he wanted to go. But sadly it wasn't. There was a sense of vulnerability that he was trying harder to quash, but also a growing sense of frustration.

The pain in his head had only decreased a little, and ebbed with each decision he tried to determine for himself, but failed to make on his own.

"This way," Bonnie ushered.

Whether he approved or agreed or not, Joe found himself being pulled to the right. "Slow down a little," he begged, putting a hand to his head as pain flared again. The walls were panelled on either side and painted white. At various intervals, a decorative lamp was positioned to provide some lighting. Though with the limited glow that they provided it wasn't easy to gauge what time of day it was.

Joe had no idea of how far they had to walk, or even which room he was being taken to, his headache was beginning to protest more and more. Another corridor intersected, and upon turning to the left, he gasped out loud to see what he thought was water. The fact that he could see anything at all meant that it was still daytime. The passage of time had been swept away with the rest of his memory.

"Is that water out there?" trying to pull away from the woman's grip on his arm to stop and take a longer look. But Bonnie didn't answer his question. In the back of his mind, his off-balance shuffle was becoming more noticeable, but he couldn't attribute it all to his unsteadiness.

Just where was he that he could see water? After waking in that room he hadn't gotten much of a sense where he was. He tried listening for familiar sounds or smells that would help him identify but a sharp tug on his arm almost had him stumbling to the floor. Could the gentle slope of the floor under his feet mean he was on a boat? Was that a secret she was deliberately keeping from him?

"Where are we going? he asked, "Wait, I can't go as fast as you," he snapped, hoping the woman would stop tugging on him like some lost puppy that she was trying to keep a hold of.

Before he could ask about the water again, up ahead, he could see a door. Upon hearing footsteps approaching, the two of them were greeted by a large man holding it open for them to enter.

"Good afternoon, Mr Dubois," the man greeted Joe.

The tugging on his arm became more insistent and the grip tightened, as he turned his head to try and take a closer look at the man that had opened the door.

The headache was preventing him from thinking straight, but there was definitely a brief flicker of recognition. By the time he had frowned in concentration though, it speck had disappeared, and the man's face became a stranger once more.

"Joseph!" was called loudly from across the room, startling the younger man as he turned to see who was angry with him.

Seline forced the volume of his voice to drop after the short outburst, reminding him of how he was supposed to be portraying himself. As a someone who was worried about his son's health. Walking over to a serving tray, he began to make himself a drink with ice to calm his nerves. He hadn't realised how much effort he had to put into to just appear nice. It certainly wasn't all everybody lead you to believe he silently thought to himself.

Rather than addressing the man, Joe found his attention draw to the opulence of the room and the expensive furnishing and fittings that adorned the large expanse. There were a number of large timber credenzas spaced evenly throughout the room. Each displaying crystal glassware or silver goblets and ornaments. There was a large polished grandfather clock standing proudly to his left. The large brass pendulum swinging back and forth in typical hypnotising fashion.

"You can come a little closer, Joseph," Seline invited, seeing the reluctance not only on the young man's face, but in his body language and nervous stance.

Joseph obliged by taking a step forward, but the self-confidence that could normally be associated with Joe Cartwright was very obviously lacking. The figure standing in place now, was unsure of his place and much too quiet for his charm to be noted.

"Thank you for the clothes, they fit just fine," Joe uttered cautiously, looking over at Bonnie as though wanting her to give him prompts about what to say.

The woman had crossed to the living area of the room and was seated on a long striped settee and didn't see his silent unspoken pleas.

"No need to thank me, Joseph. They are your clothes after all. Not what you would wear at night when working of course, but I have seen you wear them often enough after hours," Seline answered, his tone of voice sounding like the comment was of annoyance. "You have had a trying time, I am sure, but you are back with us now."

Joe didn't know how to respond, as though he had only been away for a few days and now returning to his normal routine. But for him, everything was as far from normal as it could be, and he didn't know how he was going to voice that so that these people understood.

If this man was his father, one would think that even with memory loss, the man's face would be familiar to him. But it wasn't. When he looked towards the man at the door, he had felt something stirring, like he was sure they had met somewhere before. But with the man who was his father, there was something entirely else. No familiarity or recognition, or feeling like they had met. It was as if he was masked from Joe mind by a thick black cloud. Concealed and mysterious.

"Bonnie tells me that you have eaten today, so you should be feeling well again soon," Seline mentioned casually, walking around the table and seating himself on a single thickly padded armchair in the living area. "I must say, this it isn't like you to be this standoffish."

The off-hand remark rolled off Joe, forcing himself to push the frustration once more, "I don't know what to tell you," he admitted truthfully, thinking that honesty might be the best choice for the moment. "I don't remember coming here or anything else," clenching his fists a little too tightly and releasing them when his fingernails began to dig into the palm of his hands.

"Come on in and let's talk shall we?" Seline gestured with his hand, sporting a false welcoming smile. "Edwards, get Joseph a drink of iced water, he looks like he could use it right at the moment."

"Are we on a boat?" Joe queried, wanting to get the most pressing question out of his aching head. He moved closer to the middle of the room, still looking back at the man standing near the door. The man speaking had just called him _'_ _Edwards'_ but that meant nothing to him.

"You hear that, Bonnie?" Seline laughed, as though Joe was asking something very simple, "Joseph wants to know if he is on a boat?" but the laughter soon stopped as he young man neared, his face very open with expression and his desperation to know visible to all.

Joe stood down the opposite end of the long striped settee, not too sure if he was over-stepping the mark by sitting down before he was told to. Something about the man seated in the armchair made him appear a stern person who expected the rules to be followed. The fine clothes and furnishings of the room seemed to demand good manners and etiquette.

"Sit down, Joseph, before you fall down," Seline said calmly and firmly.

The sentence was barely out when Joe looked up sharply at Seline, a memory triggered. The feeling of _deja vu_ was very strong.

"Take a seat, you look a little pale still after your ordeal," Seline remarked, giving Edwards a small wave of his hand to indicate that he may need to help him make it to the settee, but then quickly waving him back when it was clear that the words had struck a chord.

Joe silently very relieved to be able to conceal how rubbery his legs had felt crossing the short distance from the door to his current position. Somehow he surmised that the other man sensed he wasn't feeling the best yet. The familiarity of having a conversation with this man had not diminished, but he tried his best to quash any emotional response until he could think more clearly for himself.

Edwards arrived with the iced water in a tumbler, handing it to him. The man looked as though he wanted to say something. "Let me know if you want any more, Mr Dubios."

"Thank you," but it was the _'_ _Mr Dubios'_ that caught his attention the most. Did the man really address like that all the time?

"This is indeed a boat, a Paddle Steam-Boat to be more precise, and it is your home and mine and has been for quite some time," Seline proclaimed.

"As I told you earlier in your room, your name is Joseph Dubois, and I am your father. The young woman seated there is Bonnie, and the man by the door is Edwards, both have worked for us satisfactorily for years."

The information reached his ears, but Joe had trouble keeping it all straight. He did remember the man telling him that his name was Joseph earlier in the day. The surname he didn't quite recall, but he couldn't say to the contrary for now. He didn't know Edwards and he didn't know what it was that either of these two people did aboard the boat, even though it was suggested that he should know.

"You have been recovering from a head injury," Seline informed. Joe reacted by feeling for the area and wincing at the pain he felt and the swelling he could detect underneath his fingertips. The whole feeling of _deja vu_ had just multiplied again.

"The doctor has informed me that you need to rest, and in a few days, you should have no memory lapses and no further headaches."

"Really, I should know who I am again!" Joe exclaimed, grasping onto that concept with hope. "The headaches are really bad."

"The doctor will arrive again tomorrow morning and examine you. He advised that you may experience bouts of tiredness, dizziness and headaches. They are all to be expected with such a nasty head injury as you have sustained."

"What time is it now?" Joe grimaced, thinking that he was going to be experiencing the pain for quite some time. The doctor must have already examined him at some point according to what he was being told.

"Three o'clock in the afternoon. Plenty of time for us to talk a little more and then perhaps a look around the boat to help you recover your memory," Seline suggested, sipping at his drink almost constantly to keep himself in a relaxed mood.

"Do you really think that will help?"

"Yes, I do. I have seen it happen before with folks who had lost their memory. Show them some familiar places or things they do everyday and they begin to remember on their own.

Joe couldn't help but look a little sceptical at the theory, but kept any comments to himself.

"I can see you are not ready to accept my diagnosis just yet. Ask anything you like and I will do my best to answer all your questions, Joseph."

Deciding to take on that challenge, "Alright, I'll admit it, I don't remember any of this at all," Joe freely admitting, the emotion flowing through him, making him stand up. He quickly regretted it though, as dizziness briefly assailed him for getting up too quickly.

Bonnie stood up, ready to steady the young man if that was required, but Seline quelled any attempt she made with a curt wave of his hand.

"Please stay seated, for your own sake. Any conversation we are going to have can be done sitting down," Seline chastised.

Joe gave a glare of disapproval at being treated like and ill-trained child. "I find myself at a distinct disadvantage, when everybody seems to know the answers before I even know what questions to ask."

"From the beginning, because I seemed to have missed a few pages," Joe retorted back as frustration at the man's casual attitude began to multiply

"Perhaps we can find a little more recent common ground than that. You came to talk to me a few days ago about a few matters regarding your mother."

"My mother?" Joe repeated in a soft voice. Had he really been talking about her only a few days ago? Strange as he couldn't even conjure a mental image of such a person in his mind, no matter how hard he tried.

Seline smirked inwardly at the nerve he had struck with the subject matter. Enough to rattle the younger man when he was trying to gather some self-confidence. "There are no secrets being kept here from you, Joseph. Where do you want to start?"

Joe felt at a distinct disadvantage, noticing an attentive audience as he looked about the room. He almost wanted to have Seline send the other people out of the room, but he pushed down that thought. Thinking to himself that if he wanted to find out if this man was speaking the truth, then perhaps watching those around him would provide that more so.

"Do you remember your mother, Joseph?" Seline asked, this tone of voice deliberately softer.

Joe glared back at the man's question, "You already know full well that I don't. Otherwise I wouldn't even be here."

Without even realising he was, Joe ran his hand across his forehead in a soothing motion, knowing that the tension in the room was only exacerbating his headache. He still felt on the edge of dizziness, and didn't know if a bombardment of information would help him or merely confuse him further.

Seline could see the pain etched on the young face, and the desperation in wanting to grab a hold of anything tangible to who or what he was. Marchant need only to widen his web of intrigue and mystery further, and the young man would be firmly under his control. He began to push just that little bit more.

"I am sure lots of people before must have commented on how much you resemble your mother," the remark sounding partly like a confirmation and also like a question.

"Well since I cannot even recognize my own face in the mirror, I have nothing to base that on."

"But there is more of Marie in you then just appearance. Her spirit burns strong within you. Your mother was a little wilful at times and didn't take kindly to being chastised."

"Wilful? You make it sound as if that was a bad thing?" Joe countered, not enjoying tagged with such an exact description.

"You misunderstand. Your mother for the time that I knew her, was a gentle person and a loving woman. She was generous and kind," Seline began to divulge. "But after a time things began to change..." leaving a heavy silence at the end.

"What sort of things changed?" Joe asked, leaning forward more and finding himself drawn into the man's words.

"Your mother, she was from a wealthy family with a very reputable background. She met a man, who took a fancy to her and filled her head with stories of travelling and tales of what else she could experience outside of New Orleans. Someone who came into town and offered her dreams. Wanted to take her away from city life and offer her vast countryside and meadows of flowers."

"Didn't you try and stop this man if he was trying to trick her?" Joe blurted out, his temper beginning to rise.

"Yes, I did, even going so far as confront the man myself."

"What did he say, what did you do?"

"Joseph, I am a man of peace and I don't believe in violence, so I tried to keep them apart. I tried to keep your mother safe and persuade her that she had a family here with you and me and that she was needed in our lives," Seline explained. "But all that I did was in vain. Despite my wishes, Marie went riding with this man one day..."

Despite the weakness he was still experiencing, Joe found that he was too restless and couldn't remain seated, abruptly standing and forced to hold onto the arm of the settee.

The sudden rush of blood away from his head caused his headache to throb relentlessly.

"All of this news may be too much to hear at once. We can continue when you are feeling a little stronger?"

"No...!" Joe blurted out, now standing behind the settee, and digging his fingers into the striped fabric as he tried to gain control over the dizziness washing over him.

Frustrated and in obvious pain to all those in the room, but refusing to let his current weakness to thwart the chance of finding out more.

"Hmph!" Seline uttered in mild disgust, "this stubborn streak is a most unbecoming trait from your mother, Joseph."

Seline inwardly kicked himself for allowing his own snide attitude to creep into the persona he was attempting to play.

Joe gave an indignant almost demanding glare, daring the man to name his perceived faults and weaknesses, but Seline quickly caught his mistake and changed his tone to a much softer one, of regret and remorse.

"Forgive my unusually gruff exterior, Joseph, you don't understand. It was that part of Marie that caused her to pull away from our marriage and wanting to spend time in less attractive company."

Joe's dropped his eyes to the floor, feeling a little humbled and embarrassed at having behaved in such a way to a man who was merely trying to help him understand better.

The right words to ask the most important question that he wanted to know the answer to still eluded him. _What had happened to his mother?_

An opportunity had just presented itself that Marchant Seline had been looking for. The seed to plant in the young man's mind as to what had happened. To coerce a series of events and their outcomes that were presented in a fashion that allowed the real truth to be masked, painted and moulded to his advantage.

"Your mother went riding that day, she was a very experienced rider. Marie must have been distracted by the charms and false hopes of the man who was accompanying her," Seline made sure that he had the young man's full attention before completing the tragic story.

"Her horse was startled and Marie was thrown. Witnesses on the day say that there was nothing that anybody could do. She was killed instantly."

Joe gasped out loud, a low moan rolling from deep down as he sucked in a deep breath through his mouth, as all other noise and senses within the room around him stopped suddenly. His knees threatening to betray and buckle from under him, and although he opened his mouth to speak, no sound escaped his lips. It was if someone was gripping him by the throat and slowly squeezing.

Joe flinched briefly as he felt someone touching his arm. Looking up in confusion to see Bonnie standing next to him beside, and having a firm but gentle hold of his upper arm. The sound of footsteps to his right, and Seline stood nearby.

"I am truly sorry that you had to hear such dreadful news from me. Even after all this time, I know how painful it is to think of her taken from me."

"You were only a small boy of five when it happened, and you are not at fault or to blame."

"Are you certain you should not be sitting down?" came the worried question from Bonnie. "You are very pale and I can feel your arm trembling even now."

Joe briefly shook his head, knowing that she was concerned for his health, but still trying to come to terms with what he had just been told, barely able to speak with the emotions than currently swirling inside of him.

"Come now, Joseph, you are still recovering, and this has no doubt been a very bad shock for you. Once you have rested, I assure you, we will talk further and you can ask any questions you may have."

Joe could feel his body begin to agree with the symptoms they were describing, reluctantly, he found himself being lead towards the door. He wanted to say more, demand more, ask more, but the headache was now echoing loudly and he winced out loud at the sharpness of the pain now assailing him.

"Who?" was the single word that he asked, but Seline guessing that he had really meant to ask, _'Who was the man with my mother when she died?'_

"I am not sure you are ready to hear his name now, but his name was Benjamin Cartwright," Seline replied, watching very intently for the reaction that such a name might cause to the young man. It may even trigger his memory.

Joe stopped walking, running the name over and over in his head. But the disappointment on his face at the lack of recognition only making Marchant Seline smile inwardly like a cheshire cat, as he followed behind Bonnie and coercing the younger man back to his room to rest.

Later that day, Joe would not remember whether he had walked the entire distance back down the corridor or not. At one point he thought he could feel his body shivering. The flicker of the lights made him deliberately drop his head and squint away from their harsh glow.

Someone's soft voice echoed in his ear, "You can sit down on the bed now."

"Just relax and lay back," the voice chided gently, feeling his legs being raised onto the bed, and his shoes being removed.

Joe didn't appear to notice Seline standing just inside the doorway, holding a glass in his hand. He watched as Bonnie gently guided the confused and hurting young man to sit on the edge of the bed.

Bonnie saw the glass in his hand, turning her head away with guilt as she saw Seline remove a small packet of powder from the pocket of his waistcoat, and dissolve a small amount of white powder into the water. She had done the same thing to Joe's food back in San Francisco, and her face burning with shame.

Tiredness began crashing over him in great waves. Joe felt a cold glass pressed into his hand and then lifted to his mouth. The liquid tasting odd, and having a distinctive after taste as it swished around in his mouth before swallowing.

"It is just water," the voice urged as he found himself taking another mouthful. Wanting to protest that the drink wasn't water, he wasn't sure if the liquid would stay in his stomach. The glass was pushed towards his lips again, but he turned his face away, shaking his head slightly in refusal, but instantly regretting such a movement as pain assaulted him again.

Joe did not feel the softness of the fabric that his head was resting on. The only thought on his mind at present, was escaping the torment of his pounding headache.

Grabbing at the bed clothes with clenched fists, Joe tried to raise his upper body, frustrated with feeling so weak and restless.

"Oh no you don't, just sleep," Bonnie admonished mildly, noting that she didn't have to use any additional force to prevent Joe from getting off the bed.

Whether he heard her words or not she couldn't be sure, the young man fighting sleep. Rubbing her hand gently down his arms, she was attempting to relax his body enough to allow the laced drink to do its work.

"No, I don't want to...s-sleep," came the slurred response. But soon all control was taken away from him as his eyelids fluttered closed and his breathing slowed and deepened. One final brief attempt to open his eyes failed again and he was asleep.

Seline was satisified that his young captive would remain still for the next few hours. The sedative he had administered would see to that. The man had wanted to embed his charade about Marie's past and reinforce Joe's new identity, but clearly the head injury was proving a little more troublesome than he had envisaged.

"Tell Edwards or Yeager to keep watch on this room at all times. I want to be told when he is awake again," Seline ordered, turning away and leaving the doorway as soon the instructions were delivered.

Bonnie used the back of her hand to test the young man's temperature, and frowned a little when she detected heat on his skin. Secure in the knowledge that he would do no more than sleep for now, she left him laying on top of the bed clothes without the need for any additional blankets. She would monitor him carefully and could change this later if his fever showed signs of breaking.

* * *

With the train pulling into the New Orleans Station, Ben Cartwright was very grateful for the halt to the slow winding motion of the train. On longer trips such as the one that he, Adam and Hoss had just endured, the hours tended to dull the senses and relax the body a little too much. Rubbing at his right shoulder, hoping to relieve some of the stiffening muscles, the trio of men were confronted to a very different scene to any they were used to seeing closer to home.

Apart from the large crowd on the station platform, the first thing to note was the vast array of aromas, good and bad. Stepping down from the train with their minimal luggage, the Cartwright men found themselves surrounded by strong smells of overly sweet perfume from ladies disembarking from the train.

Then there were the smells of food from local venders who had stationed themselves near the entrances and exits, hoping to tempt those getting on-board or getting off.

A short rotund man with ' _Station Master'_ stitched on his navy shirt walked past Adam at one point and looked distastefully at the small oriental man and his small wagon of steaming pots. The aroma of delicious food reminded them that they had not eaten in some hours.

Adam had tried to gain the man's attention for a few seconds, but all too soon, the man was distracted once again by a foursome of young men who were beginning to hurl punches at each other and cause further disruption to the chaotic crowded platform.

Ben had made it quite clear when back on-board the train before they had pulled up at the station, that the main priority had to be finding Joseph or any clues that might help find him.

On two separate occasions, Hoss found himself being rudely shoved aside as a late passenger tried to hurry their way to the ticketing counter. He had tried to step aside from one robust fellow, only to have a slim man brush past his opposite side, tipping his hat in apology, scuttling away with his tattered brown satchel tucked under one arm.

"Folks sure are in a hurry round these here parts, aren't they, Pa?"

"Courtesy in this sort of environment is hard to come by these days, Hoss. Let's just try and keep level heads, but keep to the plan," Ben responded barely able to hear his son speak with so many conversations going on around them at the one time.

"Reynolds back in San Francisco would be lost in this mixture of people that is for sure," Adam added, remembering how vacant that platform had been when they arrived.

Towards the entrance of the Railway Station, music could be heard, played by a group of men. Some seated playing, one or two standing, all wearing clothes that had seen much better days. But the melody that could be heard above the crowd was rhythmical and enthusiastic. A beat that encapsulated the working lower-class, welcoming newcomers to the city of New Orleans.

With so many sounds echoing in their ears and so many faces peering back at them, the Cartwrights had to double their efforts in making it to the entrance of the Railway Station and out of the crowd. A large archway stood as a point of reference to steer towards. Upon walking beneath it to the other side, not one of the three was quite prepared for the grand expanse of the city that was New Orleans.

Even within the vicinity of the Railway Station entrance, there were coaches and buggies arriving by the dozen, people climbing into carriages and being helped down from wagons of all shapes and sizes. There were men and horses in great numbers. Many of the men travelling by horseback in the street were dressed in very fine clothing. Top Hats and Tailed-Coats no less. Some of the ladies were also dressed in beautiful dresses adorned with lace and ribbons.

The air outside was damp and warm, with thunderclouds beginning to form and threaten for a storm later in the day. Any breath drawn in almost made strangers to cough and clear their heads. Dust was swirling around from horses, wagon and people carrying on their daily business. The humidity hanging over the city like an unwelcome blanket and causing the dust to stick and settle on clothes and other surfaces. Rain would visit the centre before the end of the week Ben suspected.

Hoss removed his hat, feeling like he was not in the same class of people, but he relaxed when he glanced over at Adam and saw his older brother adjusting to the dramatic change of scenery much better. "So many people all trying to go about their business a might too fast for my tastes, Adam," Hoss whispered, not wanting anybody nearby to hear of his awkwardness.

Adam had the benefit of being in cities like this before, a lot more than his younger brother, but upon seeing Hoss's genuine unease, helped to deter any anxieties that his younger sibling had. "Just think of it as being Virginia City on Flap Jack Contest Day."

Hoss exchanged a dubious look with his brother, and tried to do just that, but the loud shouting of a nearby teamster as yet another wagon pulled up close to the street curb, took away any such similarity. The mention of food though soon had his stomach loudly reminding him that it had been many hours since any of them had eaten.

The chance of any further conversation was over-shadowed by the sight of a Taxi-Driver pulling up behind the wagon team, but coming in at too fast a pace, causing the horses hitched to the wagon to become restless and jerk at the reins.

"What in tarnation!" the man was heard to shout in frustration at the careless disregard for the safety of passengers and animals alike.

The team driver quickly had to pull sharply on the reins to bring the team under control and calm down the nervous horses. The expression on his face was a grim one as he handed the reins of the now settled team to the man who had been seated beside him.

"I am going to give that fellow a good talkin too," they heard the driver say as he let go of the leather.

"Don't go causing any trouble, Pete," the other man urged in warning, but the driver ignored anything said and walked accusingly up to the Taxi Carriage.

"What just do you think you are doing?" the driver spewed angrily at the Taxi Driver, as the passenger disembarking from his buggy, ran through the crowd towards the entrance, muttering about being late and missing his next train.

The sudden raise of voices made many of the people standing nearby stop and stare to see what was going on.

"I was doing my job. You and your wagons have no business being here delivering goods to the main platform in the same place where passengers are getting on and off," the driver yelled in returned, jumping down from his carriage, and ready to enforce the rules by physical force if the wagon driver needed some more reminding. His thick Irish baroque accent made it more difficult to convey his angry tirade.

"We have just as much right as you," the teamster driver demanded, though the confidence of his voice faltered a little, and the dropping of his eyes away from the intense gaze of the other man, signalling that perhaps Pete knew what was being said to be true. "You were coming in way to fast and spooked my team!"

"I will more than spook your team, I should be boxing your ears some," the Taxi-Driver threatened, taking up a boxing stance and putting back the sleeves of his shirt and raising his fists.

A few gasps could be heard coming from the gathered crowd as it was clear that the argue was quickly going to degrade into a physical fight between the two men. The teamster driver backing down none and preparing to give a licking in turn to the Taxi-Driver.

One man was shouting to find one of the local police constables, but none could be seen anywhere near the Railway Station. A few other men seemed quite pleased to see two men taking a more primal approach to sorting out their differences of opinion.

With little warning, the first punch came from the teamster driver, landing squarely on the Taxi-Driver's shoulder and setting him off balance for a moment. He growled in return and quickly gained firm footing before swinging a meaty arm at the Irish dog. Whilst his arm had strength behind it, his built up emotions caused his aim to go awry and miss the other man by a good inch and a half.

A smirk from the Pete, the wagon driver was short lived as the Taxi-Driver swung again, this time making contact just above the hit. He let out a surprised gasp of air, both hands falling to the struck area. The Taxi-Driver used this to his advantage, grabbing the other man around his middle and toppling them both awkwardly to the ground.

Pete used one of his feet to lunge out at the Taxi-Driver, and was rewarded with a startled yelp as he made painful contact with his opponent's lower leg.

The crowd surrounding the warring parties began to swell in number, with Ben and his boys finding themselves standing amidst a large group and being jostled about as spectators tried to gain a better vantage point closer to the scuffle.

With both men now faltering on the ground, on one occasion, Ben found himself losing his own balance momentarily, and almost finding himself sprawled on the ground, except for Adam standing directly behind his father and able to use a supporting arm to prevent an embarrassing fall. "Thank you, Adam," Ben said in gratitude, dusting down his waistcoat.

Hoss had seen his father's stumble, and now pulled the brim of his hat down firmly, glaring at the two men. Adam had seen the indignation on Hoss's face, wanting to prevent the fight escalating, "I don't think we should...," but his sentence was left unfinished as he watched on with a hidden mixture of pride and admiration.

"Alright, I think you two have just about done enough," Hoss hollered, grabbing the Taxi-Driver by the scruff of the neck and holding him in place, whilst he grabbed a fist full of Pete's black hair. "Stand still now," he warned with a yank and a shake of the pair.

Pete's hands both came up automatically and as he tried to extradite his locks from the stranger's hand pulling on it, "Yeow, that hurts. Let go!"

"Hey, I wasn't finished punching him in the nose yet," the Taxi-Driver implored, irked that he was being manhandled. "Who ask you to step in, cow-poke?"

The crowd around who had been boisterous a few minutes before, now quietened and turned to look at the large man who had stepped in to stop the fight. Hoss felt the weight of everyone's stares and swallowed a little as he tried to search for the words to explain himself. A couple of them nodding in agreement with the Taxi-Driver's question.

"If you two _gentlemen_ are fixing to finish this, then do it somewhere else," Hoss emphasised, making both of them look at him and then each other.

"Alright, Alright, everyone out of my way. Why are all of you people blocking this area now?" a voice called out and then a whistle blew shrilly and loudly.

A long thin policeman weaved this way through the onlookers and bystanders, getting ready to blow on his whistle again.

"Naw, nothing going on here," Peter shuffled with his feet, wrenching his hair free and rubbing at the spot, now missing more than a few hairs no doubt, he thought to himself.

But he wasn't about to draw the law into the problem, surrendering whatever ground he had made on behalf of all the wagon drivers and teamsters.

Despite their argument, the Taxi-Driver appeared to be in complete agreement on this particular point, and wanted to avoid any interference from the police just as much.

"No problems officer, just unloading my wagon," Pete said as he scurried to the back of his covered wagon and began unloading the boxes and barrels from inside. By starting to unload, he made it clear that he wasn't about to move his wagon until it was completely empty to everyone, including the Taxi-Driver.

"No idea what you mean, officer, these good people were just flagging me down for my next fare," the man said cheekily, now taking a hold of Hoss's collar and trying to drag him closer to his own vehicle.

The crowd had thinned out fairly quickly and the bystanders and witnesses to the fight were now walking away down the street, and deliberately making themselves scarce from any further involvement.

The police officer looking at both men and the Cartwright's suspiciously and was about to take down more information from all of them, when a woman could be heard calling out to him. Ben and his boys had to keep from laughing when they turned and saw what the young constable was about to become embroiled in.

"Officer, Officer, I demand you act immediately," came the announcement from none other than Mrs Hopkins from the train. "I will not idly stand by and let this atrocity go unpunished. You must come with me now!"

Hoss tipped his hat as a sign of sympathy at the officer's puzzled expression. "Almost doesn't seem fair," he whispered quietly to Adam as the brothers shared a knowing smile with their father about the long story that he would soon endure.

* * *

"Come on now, hurry and all, cannot keep a busy driver like myself waiting you know," the Taxi demanded, trying to draw attention away from all that had happened as much as possible.

"How do you know we even want a Taxi?" Ben asked, noticing the man's accent, but not liking the distracted and casual attitude that oozed from him.

"You folks are from out of town I can see, stands to reason you have places to go. I shall get you there. I take all the passengers from the trains I do, so don't let anybody else tell you differently. I notice everything that goes on around here I do."

"Notice everything, do you?" Ben parroted back, looking back at Adam and seeing the same questions going unanswered.

"You see all the passengers who come out of here?" Adam asked.

"Most of them, yeah. So what of it?" the driver shrugged his shoulders, knowing that there were times that he arrived late, but now wanting to openly admit it to his possible next fare.

"I haven't got all day to stand about here, answering your questions I already told you I knew." The man paused briefly after that statement, thinking that it ma not have come out sounding quite right.

"You can have a fare, and I will even pay you a handsome tip, in turn for some information," Ben promised.

The man's eyes lit up at the mention of money, but he urged on the side of caution, "What sort of information are you needing?"

Ben hesitated for a moment, trying to gauge just how much to tell the man about their travels and troubles. "Can you tell me if you saw a young man come out of this station a few days ago? He might have been wearing a green jacket, Ben prodded with vital clues that might help identify Joe's presence.

Now that the driver had to recall specific people, and despite his grandeur of how much business he had, he found himself concentrating and trying to remember faces or attire.

"There has been so many...," the man started to say when his expression changed to one of triumph, "Oh you mean those folks that were in too much of a hurry?"

"Too much of a hurry?" Adam questioned, pleased that they might be closer to finding Joe, and noting the sheer relief reflecting on his father's face at the man's exuberant response.

"Yes, a few days ago, three or four, I cannot be sure, but there was this young woman, with blond hair, pretty little thing," he started to explain. The Taxi-Driver almost stopped when he saw the express on Ben's face change to one of missed chance.

"But with her, there were three other man and this one younger lad they were taking with them. He had on a hat of some description, but it was pulled down too low over his forehead, and I can't be sure if he was wearing a green jacket or not."

"It could be Joe," Ben exclaimed, but knew that the could have been any number of young men arriving at the railway station with a hat.

Adam appeared to have the same unspoken question as his father, "Where did you take them, and why do you remember him in particular?"

"Did you hear any names?" Hoss chimed in.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. I don't remember much like I told you," the man answered truthfully, seeing that these men were desperate for information.

"The reason I remember is that the young fellow looked sick and I told them that I wasn't taking any chance in case he was catching or something. Can't be too careful these days," the man added contritely when he admitted how selective he could be of his potential customers.

Adam prodded a little more, confident that a stroke of luck had come their way, "Could he have been injured instead of sick?"

"Could be, I suppose. I didn't get a real good look at him. Like I said, the hat was pulled down too much, but what I did see of him, he was a might pale and sleeping," the driver filled in the events after leaving the station with Seline.

"They wanted to go as fast as possible, down to the coast and didn't want me to stop for anything. That young fellow never woke the whole time, although the young woman seemed a might fussy about him and whispering about needing a doctor. But I don't listen in on conversations like that."

"I am sure that you don't," Ben replied, shaking the man's hand but thankful that the man had done just the opposite. "You have helped more than you know," he added, hope at finding Joe soon once again rekindled and giving him determination to press on.

"But wait, you still owe me a fair and that tip you promised."

Adam handed over 5 coins to the driver, who briefly looked at them in disgust, knowing that he had not really earned a fair at all, since the people hadn't even gotten into the Taxi. Grumbling, the man turned and continued to voice a complaint as he walked away from the Cartwright's, uttering something about not picking up cowboys as passengers in the future.

"Hoss, find a livery stable and see about getting us some horses for a few days," Ben instructed.

"Adam go with him, but then we need accommodation for us and Joe when we find him. Make it a suite that is large enough for us all. Put everything in my name, I will sort out the bill a little later."

"What are you going to be doing, Pa?" Hoss asked, not wanting to come outright and admit his apprehension of three of them splitting up in a large city.

"I want to go and check on a place, there is a little tavern on the coast called the ' _Captain's Nest'_ ," Ben replied, deliberately avoiding any forthcoming information where he was headed. "I will meet you there in two hours and we can put our heads together and decide what our next move is."

* * *

Despite Seline's instructions about Edwards and Yeager keeping watch on the room where Joe was sleeping, the two men wandered back towards the gambling lounge of the paddle boat, and starting a round of poker.

A little _sharing_ of the boss's liquid refreshments, and all thoughts of the young man who they were supposed to be watching fled.

Seline had returned to his own cabin, attending to ' _important matters'_ and asked that he not be disturbed for several hours unless absolutely necessary.

Bonnie could be found in the kitchen preparing lunch for all those on-board, taking into account that the young man may not be wanting anything substantial due to his headaches. But if his body was to start healing properly, then the first step needed to be regular good food.

The small galley kitchen and Seline's cabin were situated on the other side of the paddle-boat, some distance from being from the other sleeping quarters.

Back in the room where Joe was laying, his sleep was beginning to become very restless.

His legs tangling in the bedclothes and his temperature rising with fever. But it was pain that caused Joe to wake and refused to allow him to rest, despite the aid of the sedative in his system. He shifted and groaned as the pain began to grow from different parts of his body, his ribs, back and head.

Joe winced out loud as he willed his body to stop fighting against him and leave him alone. Nausea plagued his stomach, but he swallowed the feeling as the insidious tendrils of pain began to merge together.

With little warning, Joe sat up abruptly in the bed, his head exploding with a fresh onslaught of stabbing pain. He gasped out loud, feeling disoriented and uncertain of his surroundings. He tried to wait for the cloud over his mind to pass, but the headache was intense and brutal.

Forcing his legs over the side of the bed only increased his dizziness, but he was determined to make his weakened body move. His memory didn't got back far enough to remember a time when he felt well and without pain. Using a shaking hand to grab at the tangled sheets, he tried to pull himself into an awkward standing position, but only remained up for a few seconds before dizziness assailed him once more and had him sitting on the edge of the mattress.

He pulled himself upwards a second time and managed to maintain a bent-over stance still gripping the blanket with his fist. A cold shiver washed over him and his shivered as droplets of sweat ran down the the small of his back.

_'_ _Who am I!'_ he demanded of himself. Frustration driven by the anxiety that he couldn't hold back and fuelled with pain that he couldn't overcome, and an emptiness inside his mind that consumed everything else about himself.

Shuffling his feet and feeling the wooden floorboards beneath him, Joe tried to push the dizziness aside and break through the cloudiness of his amnesia.

To prevent himself from losing his balance, he stretched his arms out praying that what little strength he had in his limbs would let him reach the mirrored dresser table on the other side of the room.

Those clouds of darkness refused to answer his unspoken questions as he slowly lifted his head and gazed into the mirrored glass that silently taunted him. He scrubbed a hand down one side of his face seeking something that alluded him. He felt as though he was trapped within some dream that was sewn around him so seamlessly that he couldn't avoid it. Nor know what was real and what was an illusion.

An empty ceramic bowl and jug were position to one side of the dresser. Using one hand to keep his balance and one to pour the water, he half filled the bowl. After setting the jug down, Joe couldn't help but look down into the water and frown as he splashed angrily at the image of that stranger's face before it rippled away.

Compelled to overcome the physical weakness that plagued his body, Joe used his free hand to dip into the water and bring it to his face, savouring its cool temperature. Then in complete contrast due to the confusion in his mind and the fever coursing through him, appeared for a moment to cause the water to burn and sting his face and hand. He told himself that it was all in his mind.

He coughed at the sensation feeling a strong charge of anger build up within him again, shaking his head and keeping his eyes shut tightly as he reached for a cloth to dry his face.

_'Fool!'_ he screamed back at the image before him. Eyeing the stranger before him with suspicion and a scowl on his face. The glass mocking him that he was seeing his own reflection.

In his mind, the troubled young man could hear the woman's voice gently admonishing him, _'Don't try so hard to remember.'_

He choked, fumbling back a step. Pain. Fear. Confusion. All flooding him with vivid and potent images that he couldn't put into context or a time frame on. The young woman who had brought him food and clothes. The man telling him about his mother. He felt like a stranger among the very people who claimed themselves to be friends and family.

Struggling with his body and the memories, a single thought struck him like a physical blow and left more questions than it answered. Perhaps the reason he didn't remember was because it was a self-defence mechanism. That somewhere deep down, he must know that he wanted and needed to protect himself.

Maybe due to the injury he had received, the amnesia had not been a conscious act on his own part, but that his mind has decided that repression was the only good explanation for repressing who he must have been. And that he was better off not knowing who Joseph Dubious had been.

In desperation, wrapping both hands around the frame of the mirror, until he could feel his fingertips hurting and then beginning to go numb. His headache continued to throb mercilessly, intense with heat that needed to escape but had no outlet.

And then an image struck him that didn't have any meaning. Instead of holding onto a wooden frame, he could feel his fingers curling around a hand-gun. There was nothing familiar about this place. Nothing about the faces or his surroundings and some things that made absolutely no sense at all. He wanted answers. Not questions and subterfuge.

Anger and frustration multiplied exponentially and then exploded all at once as he pushed himself away from the dresser table, and towards the door. Pure adrenaline was the only thing keeping him upright as he pulled at the door knob, struggling with it before shoving it open and stumbling into the corridor.

The long narrow walkway, offered no further clues and with no knowledge of which direction to go, Joe turned right, picking up the pace and began to run from everything. From those unfamiliar faces, the mirror, those images and mostly from himself.

Bonnie had just finished preparing lunch and heading towards the sleeping quarters, when she was astonished to see the young man trying to run down the corridor. Wiping her wet hands, she wondered how on earth he could be on his feet given the drug Seline had given to him only hours earlier.

She quickly followed him, expecting to find him sprawled on the floor within a few metres, but worried about what could have occurred for him to be on his feet when he was less than well.

In the lavishly decorated gambling room, Edwards and Yeager were about to deal out another hand of cards, when the two of them heard someone approach the room. Both had put the cards down, thinking that Seline had come in unannounced and caught them slacking off, but surprised to be met with the figure of Joseph Cartwright, running into the room, with no shoes on his feet and his shirt only partially buttoned.

There was a wild-eyed expression to his face that they didn't immediately recognize. Yeager could see that he was unsteady on his feet, and in danger of falling to the floor at any moment.

Joe was almost at the end of his strength when his feet crossed the plush carpet, almost coming to a complete stop and bending at the waist to account for the stabbing pain in his head. Two men were seated at a table halfway across the room. They both got up, but only one started to walk towards him.

An odd ringing sound in his ears, made it impossible for Joe to understand what the man was saying, but his sense of danger was raised and he took a few evasive side-ways steps. This only increased the dizziness tenfold and new images began to assail his mind.

When looking at the man, the distinct sound he could make out was one of horses hooves. Just just one horse, but many hooves, and the smell of dust and animals in a large group. Horses... yet another piece of the puzzle that just didn't fit.

Joe felt his anger rising once more, and even with his confusion, it seemed that it was directed specifically at the man confronting him and coming closer.

He held out his arm as though to ward off any advance from the stranger, " _No!"_ all the time moving further away in the opposite direction.

Edwards could hear the harsh, laboured breathing, but upon trying to get closer, the young man screamed, "No!" again and backed away towards the other side of the room.

At first, it was the sound of hurried feet that broke Marchant Seline's attention from his current task. But just as he was about to ignore it as one of the men, a shout of pain mixed with anger that drew him from his cabin. It was continued raised voices that drew him to the gambling room and the scene that currently greeted him.

A dishevelled and angry Joe Cartwright standing deliberately away from everybody else, using a table to support himself.

Bonnie followed Seline into the room, dismayed, but not totally surprised at the sight before them all. The young man looked like a caged animal, gripped by fear and pain.

"Will one of you please make him stop all this nonsense," Seline gruffly ordered.

"Can't you see, he is scared and in pain," Bonnie pointed out. "He shouldn't even be awake," purposefully reminding him of his deception.

Seline was about to deliver a stern word of warning at her forthrightness, when he paused and took heed of her words, but not before showing his displeasure at her attitude towards him. Especially in front of the other men.

"Joseph, we are here to help you," Seline tried to soothe.

More unexplained feelings and images assaulted him without warning, and they were different again. A sharp pain from a needle and hurtful words being delivered by a voice with a flat neutral tone. To Joe, a knot of warning began to ball in his stomach, he just couldn't put his finger on the reason.

When Edwards and Yeager both took a step towards Joe at the same time, instead of pulling away from them, he took a forceful stride forward, pointing an accusing finger at them both, "You were hired by me!"

The sudden outburst leaving him leaning heavily against the table for support once more. He had no idea why he needed to yell that to either of them or what sparked him to feel such animosity towards either man.

The statement had a totally different effect on Edwards and Yeager though, with both of them stopping and exchanging a knowing glance with each other.

Looking over at Seline, they could see that he didn't know what the young man had shouted out for.

With four people in the room apart from himself, Joe looked back and forth between them all, trying to remember what he knew about each. But despite the brief flashes and images, it was what he didn't know that stood out in stark contrast.

Joe voiced his barrage of accusations towards all of them, but kept his gaze fixated on the one person who had been taking care of him, Bonnie.

"All of you keep telling me who I am. But I have nothing to base any of that one. I can't remember any of the things you say that I have done. I don't know what or who to believe any more."

"Joe, let us help you," Bonnie answered softly, seeing the distress in his body and etched on his face.

"You might remember, but I don't!"

With the last word being emphasised, Joe's legs would no longer hold him up and he folded into a unceremonious heap to the carpeted floor.

Somewhere in the background he could faintly hear a soft soothing voice talking to him, but could not make out the words. He was too tired, and the pain too great to try and fight his way back up.

This small fleeting amount of comfort began to soak deep into his bones. The soft tones continued but he didn't try and listen to the words. Only moments ago, he had been praying for a touch or smell, a reaction that would help him remember his life as Joseph Dubois.

Joe surrendered to the soothing silence and blackness that now engulfed his body and mind. The blackness took him away from the images and his pain and cradled him gently in its grasp. All thoughts fled as he lost himself in a haze of nothingness.

Bonnie bent down and gently ran her fingers along he head and neck, detecting the heat and fever still present. Sighing, she looked down into his face and saw that his eyes were closed and his features lax with unconsciousness.

Seline interrupted the silence, "What was all _that_ about?"

Somehow he was thinking that the young man was carrying out some contrived, over-dramatic and elaborate charade.

Bonnie wasn't about to coddle him into any false sense of accomplishment, "I think we just saw his first few memories of being Joseph Cartwright."

Marchant Seline's narrowed his eyes with a piercing gaze levelled at Bonnie, and then his unsuspecting and reluctant prisoner. His carefully set out plans against Ben Cartwright were quickly becoming tangled if not unravelled.

To be continued..........

  
**Author Notes:** The distances and places are totally made up as are the various modes of transportation, so please just believe them as they are for the sake of the story.

DUBOIS is the name I have used for Marie's maiden name. I believe this may not be entirely correct, but now I had used it once, I will have to stick with that for the remainder of the story. It does play a significant part in the story as you will see later.

There are still little clues all the time for future things that will happen or things that have already happened that will be left for Ben and the others further down the storyline.

I don't want to update for the sake of updating. I want the story to flow well and for readers to be able to follow it with some logic and enjoy reading it.

Please let me know what you think so far.

Thanks for reading

  
  


Jules

  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: The distances and places are totally made up as are the various modes of transportation, so please just believe them as they are for the sake of the story.
> 
> DUBOIS is the name I have used for Marie's maiden name. I believe this may not be entirely correct, but now I had used it once, I will have to stick with that for the remainder of the story. It does play a significant part in the story as you will see later.
> 
> There are still little clues all the time for future things that will happen or things that have already happened that will be left for Ben and the others further down the storyline.
> 
> I don't want to update for the sake of updating. I want the story to flow well and for readers to be able to follow it with some logic and enjoy reading it.
> 
> Please let me know what you think so far. 
> 
> Thanks for reading
> 
> Jules

**Author's Note:**

> This is a much longer version of my first chapter for this story. There are six more chapters already written and I will edit and post them as quickly as possible. Chapter Eight is partially written as well. This story is now going to be a much longer one, with a lot more detail added and a completely different ending to the one planned years ago. So please bear with me. I hope you enjoy reading the story so far.
> 
> The translations I have used from English in to Chinese (Traditional) – are the best I could do at the time, but have not been done by a professional translator. There will be other times during my Bonanza stories where foreign languages are used – and I will provide the translations at that time as well.
> 
> Translations from English to Chinese (Traditional)
> 
> \- sew or fix shirt - Féngzhì huò xitūlǐ chènshān
> 
> Yes, I can fix for you - "Shì de, wǒ kěyǐ bāng nǐ jiějué,"
> 
> thanks - "Xièxiè,"
> 
> rubbing ointment - Cā Ruǎngāo –
> 
> what you do to back ? "Nǐ yào zuò shénme huílái,"


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